The Other Side of Reality
by Noda2
Summary: Sequel to "Second Reality To The Right." Sam's back in "the only universe of consequence," but she's having some difficulties in adjusting. Sam/Jack. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/ Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story for entertainment purposes only and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author._

**A/N**-This story is a sequel to "Second Reality To The Right," and it's strongly recommended you read that first. If you can't find it, click on my name and it's under "stories."

_**The Other Side Of Reality**_

**1**

Samantha Carter felt a familiar rush of cold, seconds before she was expelled through the Stargate, barely catching herself as her feet connected with the metal grating of the ramp. As her vision cleared, Sam was overjoyed to see this trip had finally brought her to her goal. Blessedly, General Hammond was standing in the middle of the control room. She was still trying to orient herself as the base commander leaned forward, reaching for the microphone.

"SG-1 report to the 'gate room!"

Eying the amount of armament aimed at her, Sam held up her hands, extending the rifle away from herself. She'd anticipated such a reception, seeing it had been nearly a year since she'd gone missing, and was relieved when Hammond recognized her, instructing the soldiers to stand down.

The blast door to her left opened, admitting Colonel O'Neill, who strolled in leisurely, hands stuffed casually into the pockets of his pants. "Took you long enough, Carter. Where've you been? Doc's been waiting on you for your post-mission physical."

Sam stared at him, mouth agape. Missing eleven months and this is the reaction she got from him? Sure, they did their best to avoid any public displays, but after this much time she didn't think a hug or even some relief in his voice would have been inappropriate.

"Sir, I . . ."

"Save it," he grinned. His tone was nearly jovial. "Get to the infirmary so we can get this briefing over with and I can get outta here."

Sam was still stunned at how blaze' he was acting. Surely they'd tried to locate her? "Sir?" she managed, still not processing his reaction.

"Come on, Carter, we haven't got all day!" he made a gesture indicating she should get a move on. Blinking, she took a step forward, trying to understand how he could be so nonchalant. Just then Daniel and Teal'c stepped into the 'gate room, waking Sam from her stupor.

"Daniel!" she cried, taking he final steps down the ramp to embrace him. "Teal'c!" she called, turning to hug the Jaffa with the same enthusiasm. "God, it's so good to see you both!"

Daniel accepted her act of affection rather stiffly, but reached his arm around his comrade, patting her on the back. He cast a glance first at Teal'c, then to Jack, who shrugged and jerked his head towards the door.

Daniel gave her an understanding smile. "Getting separated from the group can rattle you, that's for sure."

"Separated?"

"Yeah. I saw the lightening hit the 'gate when you went through. When you weren't here, we figured you'd gotten 'derailed.' You know, jumped to another 'gate."

"Well, that is what happened," she said, bewildered.

Daniel stopped mid-stride. "So we were giving you a chance to dial in. We didn't want you stranded because of an outgoing wormhole."

_They hadn't been using the 'gate for months on the off chance she was trying to get back?_ Sam still wasn't making the connection. "You weren't worried?"

Daniel resumed his pace. "I was, I thought we should go back out and look for you, but Jack decided we should give you some time to make it in on your own." Sam looked over at the colonel who'd fallen into step with them. He continued to look unconcerned, and Sam found herself swallowing to dispel the tightness in her throat.

"You can take care of yourself," he said with a shrug. Sam stopped dead in her tracks, causing the men to halt as well. His callous attitude momentarily left her speechless.

"I can take. . . .!"

"For crying out loud, Carter, you were only missing thirty-five minutes! If I would have sent the troops out for you, you'd have had my hide!"

"Thir. . .thirty-five _minutes?_"

"Give or take."

Sam felt light headed, and her view of the 'gate room suddenly slanted. "MajorCarter, are you ill?" Teal'c asked, grasping her elbow before she could wilt to the floor.

Turning to the control room, Jack called out, "Call for a medical team!"

Sam struggled to right herself. "It's okay. I'm fine," though the strength of her voice was at odds with her reassurances. "It's just a bit of a shock, but I suppose it's possible. . . ."

"What's possible?" Jack asked, hesitating for a moment before taking her other arm.

Turning her head to look into his eyes, Sam read the concern she'd initially hoped to find. "That it's only been thirty-five minutes here."

"Carter, you're not making any sense. Are you sure you don't want a ride to the infirmary?"

Sam shook her head, "Sir, what's been about a half hour to you has been nearly a year for me."

Jack's gaze connected with Teal'c's, then Daniel's and he released a sigh. "Oy. _So_ not gonna see the Simpsons."

**A/N**-Chapter 2 to follow shortly


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer in chapter 1

**2**

Jack paced the briefing room, checking his watch, noticing it had only been about twenty seconds since the last time he'd looked. How long did it take for Fraiser to determine Carter was in one piece? He supposed the whole time difference thing was holding things up. Scrubbing both hands through his hair, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Just because they couldn't agree on how much time had passed, there still could be a reasonable explanation. She'd probably got bumped on the head and was disoriented. Probably.

Daniel entered the room, taking a moment to look up from his papers. His gaze landed on the top of Jack's head, cluing him into his hair's disarray. Hastily, Jack tried to calm his disheveled coiffure.

"Any word about when we can get this show on the road?"

"Janet said it would be about a half hour," Daniel muttered, gaze refocused on the folders in his hands.

"Kinda seems like the magic number," Jack quipped as he resumed his pacing.

"Huh?"

"How long Carter was gone," Jack clarified, realizing his words weren't making it all the way into Daniel's conscious thoughts. Teal'c entered, nodded towards him, then took a seat next to Daniel.

Jack took a seat across from Teal'c, trying to hold his hands steady, but it wasn't long before the pen and pad at his place were being fiddled with. Teal'c stared at him, shifting his gaze to Jack's fingers, giving him the "eyebrow."

General Hammond arrived next. "Sorry I'm late, people," he said, setting down a mug of coffee along with his folders. When his hands were free, he motioned Jack back down from his attempt to stand.

"Major Carter is still in the infirmary?" he asked, taking a seat at the head of the table.

"Apparently so," Jack answered, steepling his fingers over the yellow legal pad, tapping his thumbs together. The tension in the room was escalating the longer Carter took. "Perhaps we should postpone this until tomorrow?" Jack suggested, squirming in his seat.

Hammond closed his eyes then opened them slowly. "I know you've got plans, Colonel, but since there was an incident involving one of your people missing for a time, this briefing can't wait."

"Yes, sir," Jack sighed, staring down at his hands. His other fingers had joined in the tapping, and when he noticed Hammond, Teal'c and even Daniel watching his motions, he made a concerted effort to wind his fingers together and still them. _What the hell was taking so long?_

Now he was starting to worry. Sam usually breezed through her post-missions and was the one waiting for the rest of them to be cleared. Maybe he'd been a little too hasty in his assumption she was all right. She'd reminded him as they'd strode up the ramp, the electrical storms on P4X-399 were freakishly unpredictable. She'd given him a "worst case scenario" of someone traveling between 'gates if lightening struck, and the outcome wasn't all that bad-the matter stream would be re-directed to another 'gate. So, he'd been forewarned. There hadn't been anything to get excited about, right?

Jack looked up as the door to the conference room opened, and he couldn't help the _finally_ that popped into his mind. His relief quickly dissipated, however, when he got a look at Carter. She was paler than he'd ever seen her, and she looked shell-shocked, her large eyes seeming even bigger in her drawn face. Janet followed her, and Jack was surprised to see her helping Sam to a seat, in her usual spot, next to him.

"Sorry to hold everyone up," Sam said quietly, looking at the general then moving her gaze around the room. When Sam got to him, she brushed her glance over him so quickly that if he'd blinked, he would have missed it.

He wasn't the only one to notice, which started him feeling self-conscious. Daniel raised his eyebrows at him as the archaeologist glanced between Sam and himself. Jack gave him what he hoped was a reproving look and he must have understood, since Daniel suddenly found his paperwork very interesting.

General Hammond cleared his throat, bringing the room to order. "Even though there seems to be some disagreement about the time Major Carter was gone, let's start with your mission to P4X-399."

"I'm sorry, sir," Sam addressed Hammond, "But I don't have my copies."

Pushing the papers in her direction, Jack tried to smile. "No problem, Carter. Why don't you take mine? You know I never read them anyway." She accepted the sheets, managing a small smile that was practically a grimace. Stretching her fingers to the edge of the papers, Sam made sure she didn't come in contact with him. Either Hammond was oblivious, or he was purposely ignoring the Major's behavior.

"Colonel, what happened when you arrived on '399?"

Jack thought for a moment. It had only been that morning they'd embarked to the planet, but it felt like days. "Well, we'd started for the ruins, but as Carter had warned, an electrical storm swept in probably about ten minutes after our arrival." He looked over at her for confirmation, but instead of a bobbing head, he got a wrinkled brow.

"Sir, I never said anything to you about electrical storms. In fact, I was quite surprised when it showed up so suddenly."

"Carter, you stood on the ramp and _told_ me it was more than likely we'd hit some electrical interference."

"No, sir," she said, turning to face him. "I didn't know about any electrical storms, otherwise I would have recommended we do more studies before we went to '399. I know Daniel was anxious to examine the ruins, but I would have advised caution."

"In the pre-mission briefing, you mentioned the storms, but you didn't seem overly concerned. You did give me some 'if worst comes to worst' speech right before we stepped through the 'gate, though."

"No, sir," she repeated, shaking her head. "I never spoke to you on the ramp. I was looking forward to seeing the ruins Daniel had described, so I was as impatient to go as he was."

"Colonel, Major," Hammond interrupted, "There seems to be a discrepancy in your recollections. Now, I was at the briefing with you yesterday, and Major, you did report electrical activity on '399. While I couldn't hear your conversation, I did see you stop on the ramp and say something to Colonel O'Neill prior to disembarking."

"This doesn't make any sense," Sam muttered, looking at the table.

"Ya think?"

Sam looked up sharply, narrowing her eyes. "I know it's been awhile, but I remember the details of that mission. It's not like I haven't been over and over it in my mind."

"Carter, it was this morning! I know you wouldn't forget those details in that amount of time!"

Sam was on her feet, staring him down. "It was eleven and a half months ago! And I didn't know anything about electrical storms!"

"Major Carter!" Hammond snapped, "take your seat!"

Sam looked at the general, contrite. "I'm sorry, sir," she said, sitting back down. Glancing at Jack she added a quick, "Sir." His nod was nearly imperceptible, but he knew she'd seen it.

What was up with her? She'd been acting weird from the moment he'd seen her on the ramp. What could have happened to her in thirty-five minutes? He would've suspected she'd been taken over by a Goa'uld if she hadn't come straight from her physical.

"General, Colonel, if I may?" Janet spoke up. "Perhaps we need to skip to Major Carter's post-mission examination for an explanation."

"Is there something wrong?" Hammond asked.

"Not physically, no." Janet looked over at Sam. "I think the Major can better answer that question." All eyes turned to Sam, and it wasn't until she got a reassuring nod from the doctor she spoke up.

Sam's hands were folded on top of the table's glossy surface, clenched so tight her knuckles were white. "We seem to have a difference of opinion on the time I've been gone," she said, eyes downcast. "You all say I was gone about a half an hour. I _know_ I've been gone for nearly a year."

"Carter, I. . ."

"Please, sir, let me finish." She inhaled, darting a glance in his direction then looking away again. "Daniel was correct in the 'gate room when he said the Stargate had been struck by lightening as I stepped through it. Somehow the matter stream _had_ been jumped to the next nearest 'gate, but I was the only one there. The only thing I can figure out is the rest of you entered late enough that the wormhole had re-connected to Earth, bringing you home."

Sam licked her lips, reaching for her water. "While searching for you, I encountered an energy field which at the time struck me as curious, but not potentially hazardous. Turns out it wasn't as benign as I thought. Since I couldn't see it, I didn't realize I'd become enveloped in the field until some type of surge knocked me to the ground."

"And that's when you hit your head and you thought a year had passed," Jack interjected.

"Colonel," Hammond scolded. "Continue, Major." Sam took another drink of water, still focused on the table top.

"I realized I'd been out for some time, and since I hadn't found anyone, or you hadn't found me, I thought I should try to dial Earth. When I stepped out of the Stargate, I knew something wasn't right. First of all, there was no control room, and there was a DHD."

"So you misdialed," Daniel concluded.

"No, I had the right address, just not the right street, as it were." Sam waited a moment. "I was in an alternate universe."

"Oh, come on, Carter! Really? That's what you're going with? An alternate universe? Isn't that getting to be a bit cliche'?"

Again Sam's eyes narrowed at him. "Cliche' or not, it's what happened. _Sir."_

_"_Jack, look at her!" Daniel said. "When we left this morning, her hair was short. It couldn't have grown that much while she was gone."

For the first time, Jack realized what it was that was different about her, other than the whole skittishness. Her hair was pulled back into a short pony tail so it wasn't immediately obvious it had grown. But Daniel was right-it wouldn't have changed that much in a matter of a few hours.

"So maybe she isn't our Carter. If we're going to buy into the whole alternate universe thing, lets go all the way. Maybe she's another Doctor Carter posing as our Sam."

"I can practically guarantee she's our Samantha Carter, right down to the protein marker in her blood," Janet informed them. "Now I suppose it is possible she's from a universe different from ours, but she would have had to have been taken over by Jolinar or some other symbiote in her universe for her blood to be identical."

"I'm not an imposter," Sam spoke up. "But I don't understand how we're remembering events differently," she said, looking over at Jack. "Unless I still haven't made it back to my reality." She looked even more distraught at that possibility.

"What if Sam getting separated from us was the splintering point?" Daniel asked.

"I do not understand this 'splintering point' to which you refer," Teal'c stated.

"The theory is that different actions, decisions, cause the creation of different universes," Sam started to explain. "For example, because I entered the Stargate when the lightening struck, the universe I had been inhabiting had been destroyed, and I entered a new one. Somewhere there's a universe were I didn't enter the Stargate, and events have progressed in a different direction."

Jack rubbed his temples, hoping to dispel his budding headache. "Oh, yeah. She's our Carter all right."

"But if that's the case," Daniel said, "you shouldn't have been able to return to 'our' timeline because it would no longer exist. We would have continued on in one direction and you in another."

"I think that's actually what's happening!" Sam cried, eagerly leaning towards Daniel. "It makes perfect sense!"

Jack wasn't getting it, but that was nothing new. At least Carter's face had gained some color, he thought. "Want to explain it to the rest of the class?"

Sam turned to him, eyes bright. "You're remembering events from your timeline, and I'm remembering them from mine. Because of the divergence, there's been a stumble, a hick-up if you will. It's like a rock in a stream," she said at his continued confusion. "Water flows on either side of the rock and joins up again once it's past the obstacle."

Jack squinted. "So now we're all in the same boat?" Sam gave him a big grin, the first warmth she'd exhibited towards him.

"Major," Hammond said, drawing her attention. "You claim to have been to another universe, and while that could be one possible explanation for the differing viewpoints, it doesn't address how you went to another reality and how you got back. Especially since the quantum mirror here has been destroyed."

"Well, sir, that's a pretty tall order," she smiled, but since she'd made peace in her own mind, Sam's energy seemed to increase tenfold. "I guess the first place to start is when I landed on the unknown planet."

Sam told again of the discovery of the energy field and her subsequent loss of consciousness, which Jack was following, to some degree. It was her next assumption that had his mind spinning again.

"I've had a lot of time to think about it," she said, looking at everyone. "My theory is there are natural 'rips' or 'overlaps' between universes. Perhaps they're always all around us but all the requirements, are not met. I'm guessing everything that happened to me on that planet was a fluke, but you add them all up and it was possible for me to move from one universe to another."

"Kind of like a combination lock," Daniel supplied. "Everything lines up and it opens."

"Exactly!"

Jack got the analogy, but still wasn't tracking. "So why didn't you just come back the way you came?"

Turning to face him, Sam was in total geek mode, and at the first signs of techno-babble, he started to zone out.

". . .So, you see, it wasn't possible to just reverse the process."

Jack blinked, realizing he'd missed her entire explanation. "Right," he answered, hoping it was ambiguous enough to cover his inattentiveness.

"I've also had another thought on how the quantum mirrors were formed," she added.

"Just one?" Jack quipped.

Hammond released a small sigh. "Colonel." Sam didn't seem to be the least distracted by his sarcasm and prattled on with her theory.

"I think based on the tests we made prior to the mirror's destruction, we can all agree the Ancients were the makers of the device." Sam looked around the room and everyone seemed to be in agreement with her. "So what if they were aware of these natural occurring overlaps? What if they decided to make a device that was capable of traveling from one universe to the next?"

"It is conceivable," Teal'c said.

"Even if they could," Daniel said, "why would they?"

"Same reason they had to build the Stargates," Sam answered, "to get from one place to another by the quickest means possible."

"But what advantage is there to go from one reality to another?" Daniel persisted.

Jack exchanged a glance with Sam who seemed stumped for once. "I'm not certain. Maybe they used them like you did-see what our fate _could_ be and try to do something about it in our universe. We may never know what the mirrors were intended for. My point is, I think they got the idea from observing the phenomenon of the energy fields."

General Hammond was bobbing his head. Jack wasn't sure if their leader understood all the implications or was simply agreeing with the spin Carter had put on the situation. "I'm still confused, Major. We destroyed the mirror in this universe, so I'm not sure how you were able to return."

Sam gave him an ironic grin. "I was a bit concerned about that myself, sir. When Colonel Jackson took me to P3R-233. . ."

Daniel's eyebrows shot up. "_Colonel_ Jackson?"

Jack's reaction was equally incredulous. "Daniel was in the _military?" _They exchanged surprised looks, then turned in unison to stare at Sam. "Lucy, you have a lot of 'splaining to do!"

Sam held up her hand for them to be quiet. "I'll tell you about the differences in a moment. General, in answer to _your_ question, I wasn't sure there would be anothermirror in this universe, but I had to try. I couldn't stay where I was." Again she raised her hand, forestalling Jack's questions. "I was hoping since there were two 'gates on Earth, the possibility of a second mirror in this universe also existed."

"It would appear you were fortunate in your search," Teal'c said. "Where did you find the second device?"

"Do you remember our mission to P4X-347?" she asked.

"Isn't that when we went to the Goa'uld pleasure palace? Daniel asked.

"Well, addictive light wasn't the only thing the Goa'uld indulged in. Turns out they had a mirror as well."

Jack looked at his team mates. "We were on that damn planet for weeks with nothing to do but explore. How come we never came across this other mirror?"

"It was in a subterranean room," Sam said, locking her gaze with his. "The only way in or out were transport rings, and they were connected to another part of the palace I hadn't recalled seeing."

"So you made it out of the palace back to the Stargate," Hammond surmised. "But according to the 'gate logs, you didn't come from P4X-347. According to our information, the incoming wormhole was from '399."

"I didn't? But I don't know how that's possible. . . . Unless. . . ."

"Unless, what, Carter?" Sam grabbed Jack's pad of paper and the pen from his hand and began scribbling formulas, continuing onto the next page.

Tapping the pen against her lips, she shrugged then looked up at him. "I think this might be where our 'hick-up' rejoined." She slid the pad back to him, but all he saw were mathematical formulae that caused his infant headache to suddenly become full grown.

Sam glanced over at Hammond, an apologetic look on her face. "I'm sorry, sir, I don't have an explanation for it."

Hammond's smile was indulgent. "That's quite all right, Major. I don't think we need to know the actual mechanics." Sam's brow continued to be scrunched, unwilling to let go.

"You said you had to leave the universe you ended up in?" Jack queried.

Sam looked at him, her eyes suddenly emotional before she looked down again. "I didn't have a choice. Kinsey was going to put me away. He would have used me to get at the people I lo. . .cared about. I couldn't let that happen."

Jack was about to question her further when Hammond interjected, "Perhaps you should start with what happened when you came through the 'gate and realized you were on a different version of Earth."

"Yes, sir." It took a moment before she organized her thoughts and began. Sam outlined her actions while Jack surreptitiously glanced at his watch. _No way he seeing the Simpsons_, he thought. It wasn't that he didn't want to hear what had happened to Carter and how she'd survived, it was the way she kept glancing his way and quickly averting her eyes. Something had happened she didn't want to talk about, and he had the feeling it had something to do with him.

She'd mentioned having run into a Jack O'Neill at a grocery store in Denver, but that was all she said. She seemed quite happy to to into detail how Daniel was an Army colonel and Ferretti, Kawalsky and Janet comprised SG-1. The differences between the SGCs, the jobs they had that were just slightly off. Hammond in charge of Homeworld Security, her father in charge of the Stargate Coalition. Unless he asked her specific questions, Sam seemed unwilling to volunteer any information having to do with his doppleganger.

Something was up, but he wasn't going to push her. Not yet, at least. He'd worked with Carter for years and if she wasn't ready to talk, she wouldn't. Besides, he was still itching to get cut loose and if he asked her to elaborate, they'd be here all night.

As if they'd come to the same conclusion at the same time, General Hammond began to wrap up the briefing. "Major, I'm sure there's more to your tale, but I think we've hit the high points. It's getting late. Unless there's anything you feel is pertinent. . . .?"

"No, sir," she said, quickly glancing at Jack then turning her attention back to the general. "It'll all be in my report."

"Very good," Hammond announced, climbing to his feet. "Get some rest people. This has been one for the books." Everyone in the room was nodding, gathering their papers.

"You sure you're okay with all this, Carter?" Jack asked.

"Fine, sir," she said, again casting him a quick glance that told Jack she was anything but fine. If he was honest, Jack was relieved Sam hadn't opted to talk. They both sucked at it, especially with each other.

"Ah, okay. See you tomorrow then?"

"Yes, sir." Her smile was forced but he let it slide, quickly leaving before Sam could change her mind.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer in chapter 1

**A/N**-I've changed the rating on this to "T" to be safe, since I forgot about some profanity in later chapters. Thanks so much for the reviews-they're very much appreciated!

**3**

Sam dropped her keys on the hall table and released a sigh. It felt so strange to be in this house. In the other universe she'd taken an apartment in Colorado Springs when she discovered "her" house was occupied by a young family with two children. The exterior had been a different color than she would have chosen, emphasizing it was no longer her home.

She wandered among her things, touching a picture frame here and there, feeling as if she'd forgotten what her life had been like. There wasn't even any excess dust. Why would there be when she'd been there that morning? It was such a surreal feeling, knowing she hadn't been in the house in almost a year and yet, having left it just that morning.

Looking into the refrigerator, she saw her milk wasn't even spoiled, and for some reason, that set off the flood of tears. Sam doubted her sanity. She had a year's worth of memories when the clock here said it had been hours.

Worst of all, she missed Jack. She'd sat next to Colonel O'Neill and he didn't know her. Not like Jack did. It was almost as if the man she'd known for years was a stranger.

Shedding her coat, Sam continued to move around her things, amazed at the excess she seemed to have acquired. After living out of a large purse for months, all the books and trinkets seemed superfluous. All she really wanted was her other laptop, which seemed so streamlined compared to the clunky model sitting on her coffee table. Okay, it wasn't only her laptop she missed. Sam wondered if Jack and Charlie had watched the videos she'd left for them. At the time they'd been made, she wasn't anticipating them being viewed so soon. There was so much more she should have said to them. How much she'd come to love them and how glad she was they were in her life.

It wasn't until she heard a knock on her door Sam realized she'd been staring into her living room, missing a life that no longer existed. Wiping the last of her tears from her face, she expected the knock to be her team mates bearing pizza and Star Wars, instead it was Janet with wine.

"Mind if I come in?" she grinned, holding up a bottle of red and one of white.

"Bearing gifts like that, you have to ask?" Sam open the door wider to admit her friend, and Janet breezed past her. Moving to the breakfast bar, she deposited the wine on the Formica.

Sam took Janet's coat. "You know where the glasses are. I'll be back in a minute."

"White or red?" Janet called as Sam hung her coat in the closet.

"White!" The glass was waiting for her when she returned, and Janet was already settled on the sofa with a serving of red wine. Picking up her glass, Sam joined Janet, taking a seat across from her in an arm chair.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure?" she asked, taking a sip. It was the good stuff, Sam noted.

"As your doctor, I recommend you tell me how your feeling. As your friend, I expect you to dish."

"And the wine?"

"I couldn't come empty handed, now could I?" Janet grinned. "So, lets hear what really happened and not the sanitized military version." She kicked off her shoes, tucking her feet underneath her.

Sam took her time answering. "There's not really anything more to tell," she said, her eyes focused on the stem of her glass, twirling it gently.

"Uh huh. You forget I _know_ you, Girl. It's what you're not saying that's the most telling."

Looking up to meet Janet's gaze, Sam asked, "So what is it you think I'm not telling you?"

"What happened between you and Colonel O'Neill for one thing."

Sam looked down again. "He wasn't a colonel there. I told everyone that."

"And that's about all you told us. Everyone else got to hear about their counterpart in some detail. Colonel O'Neill? Not so much."

"What do you want me to tell you about him? He was a chemistry teacher, a widower raising his son."

Janet's mouth dropped open. "His son was alive? And you didn't tell him?"

"How was I supposed to bring that up? And in a room full of people? You know what that would have done to him."

"But you _are_ going to tell him, right?" Janet persisted.

"I don't know," Sam said, taking a bigger drink than she'd intended. "What good will that do?"

"It might give him some comfort. To know how his son grew up."

"But don't you see? He's not _his_ son, he's Jack's son."

Janet's eyes widened. "_Jack's_ son? So you _did_ know him other than some guy you met in the grocery store."

Sam hesitated. "We. . .saw each other from time to time."

Janet rose from the sofa, refilling Sam's nearly full glass. "You better start talking, Girlfriend."

"I was working as a waitress," she confessed, feeling blood infusing her cheeks. Unfortunately, Janet had chosen that moment to take a drink of her wine. It was all she could do not to spray liquid all over the carpet.

Coughing, Janet managed, "You were what?"

Sam hid her face behind her glass. "You heard me." Lowering the glass, Sam looked Janet square in the face. "I needed money, and in case you haven't noticed, I don't have a lot of employable skills."

"Sam, I can think of a hundred things you can do."

"Anything that would make me money?" she countered.

Janet thought for a moment, shrugging. "I guess you're right." She started to giggle.

"What?"

"Did you have to wear some stupid outfit?"

Sam felt her face growing warm. "It was a theme diner. Trying to look like the fifties."

"Oh, my God! Was it called 'Welcome Home' or something like that?"

"Welcome Back Diner," Sam affirmed.

"You're kidding me!" Janet squealed. "I've been there! Cassie saw it the last time we were in Denver and she _made_ us go in! So, you had to wear that ridiculous blue polyester uniform?"

Sam swallowed more of her wine. "Ours were pink."

"Ewwww! that's worse yet!" she cried, collapsing into a fit of laughter.

"They weren't that bad," Sam said, wondering why she felt the need to defend herself when she'd found them hideous as well. Janet was wiping her eyes, doing her best to regain her composure.

"I'm sorry, Honey. It's just kind of hard to reconcile Major Carter with Lucile the waitress." Sam was trying to hold in her mirth, but she couldn't. Seeing things from Janet's point of view gave her a new perspective, and she found herself smiling despite herself.

Relaxing for the first time since she'd stepped through the 'gate, Sam raisied her glass, saluting her friend. "Thanks, Janet. You were right, I did need this." Janet was on her feet again, topping off Sam's glass as well as her own.

"Drink up! The night is young, and you have a lot more to add to your story. Starting with a certain grey-haired not-so-colonel," she said, raising her eyebrow at Sam.

Sam was feeling self-conscious again. She kept telling herself Jack wasn't Colonel O'Neill, so why was it so difficult to tell her best friend about her relationship with him? Taking a deep breath and another drink from her glass, Sam settled back into her chair, pulling her knees up.

"When I met Jack in the store, I thought he was like he is here-in the Air Force. Even when I realized he wasn't, I still wanted to talk more to him. I was so homesick and missed everyone so much. . . . At first I thought he might have some connection to the Stargate so I gave him my number and asked him to call me. It took awhile, but eventually he did and we met for coffee. Things didn't go well."

"Really? I'm surprised by that. You two have always had. . .what's the Colonel call it. . .sparkage?" Janet was smirking at her. Sam wanted to deny it, but couldn't.

"He didn't believe me when I told him about the Stargate."

Janet's eyes grew even larger. "You _told_ him?"

"At the time, I thought maybe he was playing dumb to see what _I_ knew. Turns out he had no clue what I was talking about and thought I was delusional."

"And rightly so! Who'd believe a story like that?"

"That's not the worst," Sam said, feeling the wine starting to warm her. "I told him things I knew about Colonel O'Neill, figuring at least some of it had to be true seeing as our realities were nearly identical. It totally freaked him out and he threatened to get a restraining order against me."

"You're kidding! He was that afraid of you?"

"I think he was more afraid for Charlie. I'd met him outside one of his ballgames and that pushed Jack over the edge. I guess I can't blame him. He didn't know me, after all." Here she stopped her narrative, deciding they needed something to eat. Crossing to the kitchen, Sam opened the refrigerator to reveal next to nothing.

"I don't seem to have a lot in the way of munchies," she called to Janet who was busy filling her glass again. "How about some pizza? I really missed Luigi's while I was gone."

"Cass and I had pizza last night, but it's okay. Just remember. . ."

". . .no mushrooms on your half. Got it." Sam picked up the phone and started dialing. "So where is Cassie?"

"She's out with Dominic. She dropped me off because I knew I'd be in no shape to drive home."

"You're welcome to stay. So is she, for that matter."

Janet thought for a moment. "You know, I think she'd like that. We haven't had a slumber party in ages, have we?" Before Sam could answer, the restaurant was on the line, taking her order.

Once Sam was settled in her chair again, Janet resumed her questioning. "So, it sounds as if you made it past your differences."

The wine was making her feel uncharacteristically chatty, and Sam felt she could trust Janet with her most secret thoughts. She missed Jack terribly and talking to Janet seemed to ease some of the pain around her heart.

"We reconnected kind of accidentally. Jack was meeting a colleague to discuss a student they had in common, and they happened to pick my diner. He was as surprised to see me as I was to see him."

"Sounds to me like fate," Janet pronounced. "Don't you think it's odd you're with Jack more often than not?"

"You make it sound as if I have no free will where he's concerned."

"Maybe you don't." she took a sip from her glass. "You could do worse, you know."

Sam stared off into space. "That I could." She shook off her reverie. "So anyway, he apologized for over-reacting to the whole Charlie thing and asked if we couldn't try again."

"I told you! He totally could have written you off but he didn't."

Sam hadn't realized she was crying until she felt tears coursing down her cheeks. "I know." Janet was on her feet in a flash pulling her out of her seat, wrapping her arms around her.

"Shhh," she soothed. "I'm sorry, Sam, I didn't mean. . . "

Swallowing, Sam brushed the moisture from her cheeks. "It's okay," She reached for a tissue, blowing her nose. "It's just so hard. I told you in the briefing how Jack managed to drive off the Replicators. He was so drained. All I wanted to do was take him home and let him rest. Instead, Kinsey gave me no option but to leave him." She sat down on the sofa next to Janet, allowing her friend to wind her arm over her shoulders, pulling her against her side. "I don't even know where he is, or if he's recovering. . . . And on top of that, I actually make it back to my own universe, only to find no one here realizes I was gone." She blew her nose again. "And Ja. . .the Colonel just looked at me like I've gone around the bend."

Janet hugged her closer. "You know how the Colonel is. He doesn't handle alternate realities well to begin with, and you were acting a little. . .standoffish."

Sam nodded. "I didn't mean to, but I kept seeing Jack when I looked at him, and it was so hard. It was overwhelming." Janet lay her head against Sam's, rubbing her arm, sitting in silence when the doorbell rang.

"That must be the pizza," Sam said, moving away from Janet, dabbing her eyes. "Will you get us some plates?"

Janet rose, giving Sam's arm a quick squeeze. "You'll get through this, you know."

"I know," she agreed. Sam returned with the grease stained box, plopping it onto her coffee table, accepting a plate and her refilled glass. "Are you sure I need more wine?"

"Honey, trust me. You need more. I want to hear about everything, even if you bawl the entire night. Okay?"

Sam nodded, taking a bite of her pizza. It wasn't very warm but it tasted like heaven. A piece of her past to ground her. "He soon became a regular before he went to school," she said. "I guess things just moved on from there."

"It's hard to imagine the Colonel as a teacher," Janet said around a mouthful. "Especially chemistry!"

Chewing the last of her bite, Sam shrugged. "That's not such a stretch. He loves kids. The whole science thing, though? I have to say it was a bit of a shock. He said he liked to blow things up."

Janet laughed. "Well, that seems consistent!"

Sam tossed her half-eaten slice onto her plate, her appetite having vanished. "A lot of things were." She sat staring at her partially consumed meal, feeling her heart clench. "Do you mind if we change the subject?"

Janet's eyes were sympathetic. "Sure. But you know you need to talk to someone, right?"

"I know. Just not now," she said quietly, curling up on herself once more. She took another sip of the chablis, laying her head back against the chair cushions. The pleasant buzz of the alcohol felt good. The sensible part of her told her to eat more, but her stomach rebelled at the thought. The wine warming her belly was enough.

"Is that your doorbell?" Janet asked.

Sam opened her eyes, realizing her bell was ringing. "Must be Cassie," she murmured, unwinding her legs. She wobbled slightly, causing Janet to snicker.

"Nah, it's too early. She's going to push her curfew until the last possible second."

Sam reached the door just as the bell rang again. "I'm coming, damn it!" Swinging the door open with more force than necessary, Sam's mouth dropped open at the sight of the man on her porch.

"Sir?"

Jack's gaze swept over her and her already flushed face grew warmer. She ran a quick hand through her hair, as if the action would instantly sober her. Jack's lips quirked into a knowing smile, then pressed into a thin line.

"Sorry to bother you at home, Carter, but after you left, the General called me back in. He had a few more things to discuss with me."

She was still standing at the door, blocking his entrance. "So, no Simpson's, then." Jack's eyes widened, his mouth falling open slightly. "I figured it was the reason you were in such a hurry to leave the briefing." He didn't deny her supposition, but shuffled on his feet, hands jammed into the pockets of his jacket.

"Do you think I could come in? It's kinda cold out here. . . ."

She didn't want to let him in. It was too close, too personal and her nerves were too raw from her conversation with Janet. "Can it wait until morning? Sir?"

"I'm sorry, it can't." For his part Jack looked equally uncomfortable and in a strange way it calmed her.

"Janet's here," she informed him, seconds before he stepped into the living room, spying the doctor perched on the sofa.

"Hey, Doc," he said, "sorry to bust up Girls Night In." Janet gave Sam a questioning glance to which she just shrugged. Normally the Colonel wouldn't have come by, much less stayed once he knew she had company. This had to be pretty big.

Janet started to stand. "I can call a cab. . . ."

"No!" they recited in unison. "This isn't anything you can't hear," Jack assured her.

Sam still couldn't wrap her muzzy head around the subject of her distress was standing in her living room. She hadn't wanted to invite him in, but now that he was here, she tried to be hospitable.

"Would you like something to drink, sir?"

"No, I'm good. This isn't exactly a social call."

Curiosity piqued, she gestured to the chair she'd just vacated. "Have a seat." The colonel didn't remove his jacket, settling on the edge of the chair, eyeing the pizza on the coffee table. "Would you like some?" She could tell he did, and wondered if he'd go for polite or honesty.

"Actually, yeah. Hammond kept me a lot longer than I expected, and I haven't been home yet." She started to slide her left overs back into the box, but he stopped her.

"I'll eat that unless you wanted it. . . ."

Normally, she wouldn't have found anything unusual about him finishing her meal, but since her return, she was hypersensitive to any acts of familiarity. It didn't help that Eagle Eyes Fraiser was there to document every nuance.

"No, go ahead, sir," she said, handing him her plate. Jack took a healthy bite and closed his eyes in bliss.

"Nothing like Luigi's, even when it's cold." He finished her piece, helping himself to another. "You know, maybe I will take a beer, if you've got it."

Janet stood. "I'll get it. You guys talk." Sam wasn't sure if she was referring to her confessions or whatever the Colonel had come by to discuss. Jack took a few more bites, reached for a napkin, then started to tell her of his meeting.

"After the briefing, the General had some concerns about what you'd said about the other Kinsey being the Vice-President, and in charge of the Stargate program."

"He had even less tolerance there than here. He made it no secret that he felt the SGC was a disaster waiting to happen. That's why I had to leave when I did. We didn't know if there would be another opportunity. As it is, I'm sure their SG-1 are facing charges for their actions in helping me to get home." She stared at the table, watching him take another slice. Jack must have noticed, because he offered to pitch in for the cost of the pizza.

"Don't be ridiculous," she said sharply, momentarily confused about which Jack was sitting in her living room. The other Jack had the same worn leather jacket as the Colonel. In the past it had been a constant reminder of her CO. Now it was a reminder of the man she left behind.

"You feeling okay, Carter?"

She'd curled herself into a ball again, refusing to look at him. "It's just been a lot to take in, sir." Janet returned with his beverage. Waving the glass away, he took a long drink from the bottle. It seemed to Sam that he was settling in for the long haul, but she could see he hadn't relaxed. He was still on the edge of his seat, and wasn't looking at her, any more than she was looking at him.

Retaking her place next to Sam on the sofa, Janet looked between the two of them until the silence became oppressive. "You know, maybe I should just. . ."

"No!" They said together again.

"You were at the briefing," Jack said. "None of this is confidential. Well, to you anyway."

Janet smiled weakly, looking over at her. Sam knew Janet would stay to lend her moral support, and she smiled her gratitude back. "Continue, sir."

"You're aware of the coup General Hammond executed during the disclosure of the Stargate to foreign governments."

"How Kinsey was trying to get the NID put in charge of the program until Thor turned up. More or less telling the ambassadors no Hammond, no Asgard technology."

"That's the one," O'Neill confirmed. "As you can imagine, Kinsey hasn't taken his defeat well. I'm sure he's working on his next effort to take over the Stargate, despite his bid for the Presidency."

Sam nodded. "He'll stop at nothing to get what he wants."

"Well, that's where your own disclosure comes in. You mentioning Kinsey was already the Vice-President in the other reality has Hammond concerned."

"I can understand that," Sam said. "He has a right to be worried. I'll talk to the General in the morning. Tell him everything I can remember."

Jack set his plate down on the coffee table and took another swig from his beer. "That's not _quite_ what the General has in mind."

Janet looked between them. "What does he want?"

"He thinks we need more intelligence."

"I agree. We need evidence. I could contact Agent Barrett and. . ."

"He's thinking of something more 'in house,'" Jack hinted.

"'In house?'"

Jack twisted his napkin into a ball, tossing it onto his plate. "He wants you and me to go to D.C."

"You and me? Sir, I. . ."

"Look, I know this is a bit short notice, but Hammond is sure Kinsey's going to make a move soon and he needs a way to stop him."

"Short notice? When. . ."

"We leave from Peterson at 0600."

Sam's mouth fell open. "Tomorrow morning?"

"What's the big deal? We've gone on missions with less notice."

_The big deal is I'll be on a plane and on a mission with you. Alone, _she thought. Casting a glance at Janet she could see her friend recognized her dilemma. While Sam would be the first to admit there were differences between Jack and the Colonel, they were enough alike to cause problems.

She'd never fooled herself into thinking her attraction to Jack stood on it's own. She fell in love with Jack because of what she felt for Colonel O'Neill. Now her memories of her life with Jack were a barrier to being a competent soldier and 2IC. How was she supposed to work with him? Especially in such an intimate situation? She'd always hated the regs and what she'd been forced to give up, but for the first time she realized their true intent.

Swallowing, Sam forced her gaze to meet his. "No big deal, sir. It's just a little unexpected, that's all."

Jack stood, grinding the heels of his hands into his eyes. "I'll pick you up at 0500. Dress casual." Sam nodded, leading him to the door.

"See ya, Doc," he waved, not waiting for Janet to return the farewell. "'Night, Carter. See you in the morning."

"Good night, sir." Sam pushed the door shut and leaned against the paneled wood surface. "Party's over."


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer in chapter 1

**4**

Jack pulled up outside Carter's house at 0500 on the dot. God, he was tired. Since he'd barely closed his eyes the night before, he hoped he would get some rest on the flight to Andrews. The prospect wasn't looking good. The stack of folders on the passenger seat were daunting, and he suspected Carter was going to make him read every last one of them. So much for a nap.

Unhooking his seat belt, Jack began exiting his truck just as Sam stepped out onto her porch, pausing to lock the door. He hesitated for a second, wondering if he should help her with her small bag. She'd been acting so high-strung, there was no telling how she would react to an offer of assistance. He didn't want to put her off when they were obligated to be joined at the hip for at least the next day or two.

By the time he was done second guessing himself, Carter was at the passenger side, opening the smaller back door, stowing her pack. "Morning, sir," she said, climbing deftly into the truck's cab. Her voice was flat, rough with lack of sleep and no doubt too much wine.

"Carter." He watched her place the folders onto her lap, clasping them with gloved hands. "Cold?"

"A little." Clearing her throat she added, "I'll warm up in a minute." She still hadn't looked at him, and Jack felt his discomfort ratcheting. She was on the edge of the seat, as close to the door as she could get. He wanted to remind her he didn't bite, but thought the attempt at humor might have the opposite effect.

"Seatbelt," he reminded, re-buckling his own. Sam let go of the files long enough to pull the strap around, shifting slightly away from the door to get it latched. It was painful to witness how uncomfortable she was, and he just didn't get it. If he was going to have to walk on eggshells around her this wasn't going to work. Maybe he should call the general and request a replacement.

He knew that wasn't an option. If they'd had time, no doubt Hammond would have sent someone else. He'd give her until D.C. If she didn't loosen up by then, he'd have to give her "the talk." He hated giving people "the talk." Especially Carter. She always seemed so upset when she thought she'd let him down.

"Ready?"

She took a deep breath, nodded once, chancing a quick glance at him. "Ready." She'd managed to attempt a smile, but it was so fleeting, he wasn't sure he'd seen it. _This is more awkward than when we first met,_ he thought, putting the truck into gear.

XXXXXX

Sam took the window seat without asking, knowing the Colonel would be fidgety and it would be easier for him to move around if he had the aisle. She was surprised at the number of passengers, but there was probably lots of staff needing to be at morning meetings in Washington.

She felt a little conspicuous in her civilian clothes, seeing as the rest of the occupants were in dress uniforms. Just one more layer of discomfort she had pretend wasn't there.

The ride to Peterson seemed to go on forever; the silence in the truck, oppressive. The Colonel's eyes stayed focused forward and the only time he spoke was to ask if the heat was okay. She couldn't wait until there was some light and she could turn her attention to the files on her lap.

Jack appeared at his assigned seat with two large cups of coffee, which he handed off to her as he removed his jacket, stowing it in the overhead bin. "You want yours up here?"

"I think I'll keep mine," she said, balancing the cups. The aroma from the Styrofoam smelled wonderful and she took a sip. It was too hot, but it gave her one more thing to concentrate on other than the man next to her.

Sitting down, Jack relieved her of his cup, and took a drink, staring down the aisle away from her. "Crap," he muttered.

"Sir?"

"Forgot the sugar," he grumbled. He looked over at her and for a moment their gazes connected and in that instant, Colonel O'Neill melted away and all she saw was Jack. Sam felt her heart give a painful squeeze and she had to look away. God, she missed him so much.

"Carter? You all right?"

Sam continued to look away. "Just a little heartburn, sir," she said, swallowing, and picking up the first folder. "Are these all about Kinsey's activities?"

Jack yawned. "I think so. Hammond just handed them to me as I was leaving. I haven't had a chance to look at them." Sam started to pass him some of the files but he waved her off. "You go. Read. Tell me what I need to know." Sam felt her lips twitching towards a smile. The first one she'd actually felt since returning to "her" universe.

He'd already reclined his seat, shutting his eyes before she could comment. Taking a moment, Sam studied him, comparing notes, as it were. Truth be told, she was hoping she _wouldn't_ see Jack in his relaxed features. She wanted to see the extra lines, the scars, the more extensive grey in his hair, anything that reminded her he was her commanding officer and not her lover.

Jack's eyes remained closed. "Yes, Major?" Embarrassed at being caught out, Sam quickly turned her attention to the first folder and took too large a drink from her still hot coffee. It wasn't long before she heard O'Neill snoring lightly, and she relaxed. At least if he was asleep he wouldn't be trying to ferret out why she was acting so awkward around him.

She was doing her best to fall back into their usual routine, but try as she might, she couldn't dismiss the memory of what it was like to kiss him. To not remember the sounds he made while making love, the way he'd hold her afterwards and make her feel like the most cherished person on Earth. And she didn't want to forget. That, she decided, was the real problem. She knew she had to consign Jack to the past if she was going to work with O'Neill. She wasn't sure she was ready to do that.

Just when she was starting to get into the list of Kinsey's transgressions, the plane was readying for take-off and the Colonel had to wake up and reposition his seat. It was obvious he was still half asleep, and she wondered at his grogginess. On a mission he was instantly awake. Obviously the flight to Washington didn't seem as ominous to him as it did to her.

XXXXXX

Jack woke up as they'd begun the descent into Andrews, surprised how soundly he'd slept. He could usually doze on a plane, but to practically pass out was unheard of. He wondered if he'd drooled all over Carter. She was still digging through papers, pulling several sheets from one folder, combining them with pages from another. Noticing he'd woken, she gave him an excited smile.

"Morning again, sir." _Now this is more like it_, he thought, relieved she was back to acting more like herself.

Moving his seat upright, Jack rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "Whatcha got?"

"Most of these are Agent Barrett's reports. He's been following Kinsey for years." Jack nodded. Nothing new there. Jack and Maybourne had come up with some pretty damning evidence, but apparently it wasn't enough. Plus, Kinsey had turned his association with the NID to his advantage by outing the rogue agents making him a national hero.

Carter was still shuffling through papers as she began. "After the assassination attempt, Senator Kinsey claimed the only connection he had to the NID was in the interest of infiltrating the outlaw cells. But I don't think that's the case. I think he's just as much in league with them as he ever was. He's just covering his tracks better."

"Then what about the people he turned in?"

Sam continued to stare at the files in her hands. "I think they were extremists and were sacrificed to take the nation's attention off what they were-and are-really doing."

"A red herring."

"Exactly, sir." Sam continued to look everywhere but him, mostly focusing on papers she had to have read a hundred times by now.

Jack reached over, pulling the files from her hands. "Carter, you're not going to find evidence of Kinsey's continued involvement by staring at these." His hand brushed against her forearm, and Jack swore she would have hit the overhead bin had she not been buckled into her seat.

"What are you so jumpy about?" He could see it was a supreme effort, but Sam managed to look over at him for a moment then looked back just as quickly.

"I'm not, I guess you just surprised me, that's all." She was strung so tight, Jack figured he could pluck her like a guitar string.

Tapping the rolled up file against palm, Jack took the silence as long as he could. "This isn't going to work, you know."

"Sir?" This time she did turn to look at him, but he could tell she wasn't really _looking_ at him. It was the kind of stare-right-through-you gaze many military personnel adopted so as not to attract unwarranted attention. Carter never used to look at him like that. She was always attentive, practically hanging on his every word. She was trying to blend into the woodwork, but it wasn't who she was. You never had to wonder if Carter was in the room, and it wasn't just because she was attractive. There was an energy, a _presence_ surrounding and exuding from Sam Carter that wasn't there today. It was almost as if she was trying to make herself as small and inconspicuous as possible.

Jack inhaled. "This whole uptight thing you've got going on. I've worked with you for years and you've never been this uncomfortable. Is it me? I took a shower this morning." The quip managed a small smile from her, but her posture remained rigid.

"Sir, it's nothing. I'm . . ." Just then the stewardess announced landing procedures, cutting off whatever Carter was going to say. Now gathering up her belongings and papers, she had something else to concentrate on to block him out once more. Sighing, Jack handed the now deformed file back to her, which she incorporated with the others.

"We're not through with this conversation," he said, standing and retrieving his coat.

Sam gazed up at him as she slid across his seat, preparing to stand herself. "No, sir. I don't suppose we are."

**A/N**-this chapter is fairly short so I'll post chapter 5 in just a few minutes.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer in chapter 1

**5**

Things moved quickly once they'd checked in at Andrews. The standard issue black SUV was gassed up, GPS set, and another file containing Agent Barrett's latest intel resting on the dash. Jack made some comment praising General Hammond's clout, barely getting a weak smile out of Carter.

They'd made fairly good time getting to the industrial park, and worked on eating lunch, watching the unusually quiet warehouse. Jack took a large bite of his sub sandwich, chewing thoughtfully. "You sure this is where Barrett said the meeting was supposed to go down?"

Sam was picking at her own meal, having taken only a few small bites. "This is the place. They seem to have a penchant for warehouses."

He took his gaze off the small, standard sized door embedded in the beige tin siding. "Why do you say that?"

"Well, when Davis and I infiltrated the Committee's summit, they had what was essentially a board room inside a moderately busy warehouse. This is a different location, but they seem to opt for out of the way industrial districts."

"I would think something with a little more traffic would be better. Hiding in plain sight and all."

"These men are all high profile. Any public venue might draw too much unwanted attention."

Finishing off his sandwich, Jack looked back at small door that hadn't opened since their arrival over an hour ago. "No women, huh?"

"Sir?"

"No women on this 'Committee?'"

"Not that I'm aware of." She began rewrapping her sandwich when Jack nodded at it.

"You're not going to finish that?"

"I'm not really hungry."

"Carter, you've barely eaten anything. You have to be ready when they show up. I don't want you passing out from low blood sugar." Jack could see his nearly parental admonishment wasn't sitting well with her, but she obediently took another bite. Then another before handing the rest to him.

At first he thought nothing of it; they often shared food in the field, but this felt different. Usually she offered before handing off her remains. This felt intimate. A gesture a wife or at least a long term girlfriend would make. The strange part was, she wasn't acting self-conscious about it. After all the distance she'd been putting between them since he'd picked her up that morning, this 180 had him more than a little confused. Rather than to continue to stare at her, Jack began on her left overs.

Wiping her mouth and fingers, Sam deposited the soiled napkin in the plastic sack. "We know Kinsey is even more determined to win the Presidential nomination since his bid to get the 'legitimate' NID put in charge of the SGC failed."

"I _so_ owe Thor," he said, reaching over to take a napkin from stack on the SUV's console.

Sam gave him a quick grin but continued. "I think he's over-confident about his chances at winning the nomination because of his perceived roll in bringing down the nefarious element of the NID." She took a drink from her soda, suctioning the dregs from the bottom of the cup. "I also think he's going to hedge his bets by cutting some kind of deal with this new group."

"So, what do you think he's going to offer them?"

"I'm not sure. Some kind of immunity, I would imagine."

Jack nodded. "It's gonna be big. It takes a hell of a lot of money to finance a campaign."

Sam changed the subject. "What do you think about Hayes?"

Jack thought for a moment. "I don't know much about him, but he's not Kinsey. For that reason alone he gets my vote."

"He won the election in the other universe," she said, surprising him by volunteering the information. "He was already President."

"How was he doing?"

"Okay, I guess. I had a lot of other things on my mind other than politics." Jack waited for her to elaborate, but she didn't. Despite the fact he wanted to ask more questions, they'd finally gotten to a point that was approaching normal and he didn't want to disrupt that.

"You said Kinsey was the Vice-President. How do you suppose_ that_ happened? I mean other than they belong to the same party, I don't see them having much in common."

"As I said, I wasn't paying a lot of attention to them other than the headlines. I do know that Hayes had more or less consigned the Coalition to Kinsey's purview."

"Coalition?"

Sam looked up at him and he could see she was annoyed. "The Stargate Coalition. I told everyone that's what their SGC stood for in the briefing."

"Right, right." he said, now vaguely recalling her mentioning it. He couldn't very well confess to having missed most of the briefing because he was concentrating so much on her. "So, in the end, Kinsey still got the Stargate under his control."

Sam picked up the video camera and began toying with it, checking settings, testing it by looking through the lens. Jack watched her for a moment then added,

"And it was because of him you left that universe when you did."

Sam immediately stiffened. "Uh, yeah."

"So, if he hadn't been a threat. . . "

"Sir! I think that's them!" She interrupted in a loud whisper, slouching in her seat. Copying her action, Jack sunk lower as a second, then a third limo pulled up next to the first.

"You recognize any of them?" Jack whispered, his head nearly resting against hers. He heard Sam's breath hitch, and if there had been any room to maneuver, he was sure she would have backed away. "No," she said on her exhale, but Barrett says they go by Parker, Wayne and Kent."

Jack thought a moment. "As in the alter egos of Superheros?"

Sam's lips quirked into an incongruous grin. "Well, after all, they do think they're saving the world."

"And making a tidy profit on the side." Just then another black limo pulled up. "And here's our fourth."

"This must be Kinsey," Sam said, sitting up straighter, aiming the camera at the gathering of men. Armed private security surrounded the group and it was difficult to get a clear shot of the men she needed to capture on film. She inched higher as Jack tried to drag her back down.

"Carter!"

"I can't see them!" she growled back at him. "They haven't spotted us. They're too interested in posturing." Sam was practically kneeling on the seat, adjusting the lens to zoom in on the gathering. It was all Jack could do not to pull her back into the relative safety of her seat. "Okay, they're inside," she said, flipping a switch on the camera putting it on stand-by.

They exited the SUV, making for a line of trees that led up to a chain link fence surrounding the back of the warehouse. From all appearances, the door seemed unguarded. "Cocky bastards," Jack muttered.

"Sir?"

"Not even posting a sentry? They're pretty damn sure no one followed them."

"I would imagine their guards are surrounding them wherever their meeting is taking place. Do you have the recorder? Audio might be all we're able to capture."

Jack patted his shirt pocket. "Got it here. I have to tell you, I hope to hell we don't get caught because I haven't got a clue what we could use for an alibi."

Sam looked over at him, using his own words. "I got nothin'." Jack almost smiled at that, pulling his pistol from the back waist of his jeans.

Slowly they crept along the trees until they had to make a run for it out in the open. Sam ran to the far side of the entrance, while Jack took up a position on the closer side, covering her as she opened the door. Sam too had a pistol tucked into her jeans, but because she was carrying the camera, she wasn't able to wield it. He had to be her first line of defense.

They were in a corridor, dimly lit with emergency lighting, and again Jack was surprised by the vacancyf. He found it odd there was no one protecting the entrance or stationed at the limos out front. Or that there wasn't any sign of warehouse activity.

Sam was moving rather quickly down the hallway, and she motioned to her ear, then down the walkway, indicating she heard something. Jack nodded and caught up with her. As they neared the voices, Jack activated his recorder hoping it was more sensitive than his ears, as all he could make out was there was more than one person speaking.

They reached a doorway, leading into a huge open room which had sound echoing from all directions, and Jack wondered at the recorder's ability to capture anything useful. Also, it was lit so haphazardly, he had his doubts Carter could get a clear image on tape. Peeking around the entrance, Jack noticed the four main players standing in a rough circle, surrounded by their armed entourage. "Wayne" "Parker" and "Kent" were in a more clustered group, facing Kinsey, as if he were a supplicant. Perhaps he was.

Wayne stood with his hands in his pockets, rocking slightly forward and backwards on expensive shoes, one squeaking to the rhythm of his movement. "I'm not sure what you have to offer us, _Senator_," he stressed, obviously enjoying reminding Kinsey he was still in a position of limited power.

"I've heard rumors Hayes is going to offer you the Vice-Presidency," Parker added.

Kinsey stuffed his hands in his pockets, echoing Wayne's posture. "Gentlemen, to put your minds to rest, no offer has been forthcoming. However, if it is something I need to consider in the future, I assure you, your interests are still mine as well."

Kent spoke up. "Our interest is to have more control over off-world operations. I'm not sure you can do that if you're relegated to Vice-President."

"True, as President I would have more say in what goes on at the SGC, but do not sell me short, gentlemen. Henry Hayes has no knowledge of the Stargate and when or _if_ it is revealed to him, I'll be the perfect person to act as liaison. Regardless of my position in the administration, your interests are protected either way."

The three men facing Kinsey exchanged glances and eventually all nodded. Wayne turned his attention back to Kinsey. "It would seem we're willing to give you another chance. I would assume your price is our continued financial support for your campaign?"

"And Hayes' campaign. Should the need arise," Kinsey stressed. Again the men looked amongst themselves and nodded their assent.

"Your payment will arrive in the usual manner," Kent said.

"And there will be no further contact with us unless we initiate it. Is that understood?" Parker added.

"Completely," Kinsey answered, stepping forward with his hand outstretched. It took a moment but finally Wayne removed his hand from his pocket and extended it to Kinsey. The others followed suit.

Jack made a sign, catching Sam's attention and he signaled for her to move out. As they ran down the hall, Jack heard one of the men add,

"Good luck, Mr. President."


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer in chapter 1

**6**

Sam looked around the lobby of the modest hotel. She hadn't planned on this scenario. Thinking about it, she didn't know what she'd expected. Of course they'd end up spending the night, even though they accomplished their mission in record time. The transport back to Peterson wasn't until ten the next morning.

Sam overheard Jack at the registration counter. "Really? That's all you've got?"

Wandering over, Sam tried to hear what the problem was. "I'm sorry sir, but if you'd made a reservation. . . ." The pinched-faced man behind the desk looked anything by sorry. It was getting dark and neither one of them had the energy to go shopping for hotel rooms.

"What ever they have is fine, sir."

"You're sure?" She wasn't at all, but she wanted a place to look at the film she'd shot, to see if there was anything useable. It was so dark in the warehouse, she doubted there was a clear shot of any of them.

"Yeah," she said.

"And there's two beds?" Jack confirmed. At that Sam's head shot up and she realized Jack and the clerk had been discussing one room. Oh, God! She couldn't do that! Be in a hotel room with him? If she could retreat to a room of her own, spending the night was doable, but to _share_ a room with him? She could barely sit next to him on the plane! Scenes of Jack's bedtime routine flashed through her mind and she panicked. Maybe she could sleep in the car? How would she explain that?

"Um, sir. . . "

"That'll be fine," Jack huffed, handing over his military I.D. along with his credit card. "Might as well get any discount we can, right?" he said, giving her an uncomfortable smile.

"You know, we could have checked to see if we could stay on the base."

"Full up," he said, picking up his bag. "Some kind of award ceremony happening tomorrow."

"We'll still get a flight out tomorrow, won't we?" Sam was surprised at how urgent her voice sounded.

Jack gathered up the key card, heading towards the elevator. "Big plans for the weekend, Carter?"

"Uh, no. I just think we need to get this evidence back to the SGC ASAP."

Tapping the plastic door card against his fingers, Jack nodded. "It's pretty big stuff. I hope we got what we needed." They hadn't taken the time to assess the audio or video they'd gathered, opting for leaving the scene as quickly as possible.

Stepping into the elevator, Sam took a moment to glance at Jack. He seemed as nervous as she did.

"So," he said, looking up into the corners of the elevator, "No different from sharing a tent off-world, right?"

_Except this has a bathroom and big comfy beds. . . . _"No different," she mimicked.

_Who was he trying to convince-himself or her?_ The elevator came to a stop with a jolt and it took forever for the doors to open. The longer they stood there, the smaller the space seemed to become.

"Here we are, 414," he announced. Sam looked up and down the deserted hallway. It was awfully quiet for a fully-booked hotel, she noted. Perhaps everyone was out for dinner.

Jack slid the card into the door slot but nothing happened. The light next to the handle remained red. He tried it again with the same result. "Damn it! If I have to go back down there and get this thing re-coded. . . ."

"Let me try, sir." Jack's hand was still holding the card and she placed hers over his to jiggle the plastic in the electronic lock. The light turned green and they heard a small click. Sam looked up to see Jack looking at her and she felt her stomach drop. _Oh, this _so_ wasn't going to work._

Jack's voice was husky as he said, "Guess you've got the magic touch, Carter."

She was still staring at him. "Actually, sir, you just have to make sure the magnetic strip is in full contact."

"Magnets. I should have known." He pushed the door open and Sam took a moment to catch her breath. Maybe the beds would be on opposite sides of the room. No such luck, she realized. The room was rather cramped, but as Jack had pointed out, no different than being off-world, right?

"Take whichever one you want," he said, motioning to the double beds. She opted for the one closer to the bathroom, dropping her bag on the hard mattress. "Hungry?"

"A little, but I really want to see if I got anything on the tape."

"Maybe we should order in?"

Sam was already fiddling with the camera, rewinding what she'd filmed. "Huh? Oh. Sure. Whatever."

"Chinese okay?"

"Sure," she answered distractedly. Jack picked up the hotel's card of restaurant recommendations and dialed a number. Watching him, Sam found herself once more blurring the lines between Jack and Colonel O'Neill. Dressed in civilian clothes, it was difficult not to see Jack, and she felt her heart catch again. How was she ever going to get past seeing Jack every time she looked at the Colonel?

Redoubling her efforts to get the footage set up, Sam did her best to ignore the man sharing her space. It wasn't working. She could feel his presence almost like a tangible wall. Even with her eyes averted she felt him and knew exactly where he was in the room. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. She needed air. Suddenly she couldn't breathe with him standing so close.

"I need to get some air," she announced, grabbing her jacket.

"Carter?"

"I'll be back in just a minute," she mumbled, out the door before he could stop her. Once in the hall, she practically ran for the stairwell. She heard a door open and Jack's call of "Carter!" but she didn't stop. She needed to move, to work off the sudden panic that had swept over her.

She was so close to doing something inappropriate. She just needed a few minutes away from him to gain some perspective. From the time she'd entered his truck at 0500, he'd surrounded her. She could smell the soap from his shower; was pressed up against him on the cramped plane; shared the intimate space of their surveillance vehicle. And now had to sleep in the same room as him, all the while trying to remember he was her superior, not the man she shared Sunday morning coffee with. Not the man who gave her a back rub that often turned into more after a long day. He could be, and that's what scared her the most.

Taking one last deep breath, Sam ran a hand through her shoulder length hair and reached for the handle of the glass exit door. It didn't budge. She'd locked herself out, and in her haste, forgotten to grab a key card. Returning through the lobby wasn't so terrible, but there was no way she could quietly enter their room; she was going to have to get Jack-no, Colonel O'Neill-to open the door, and she knew he wouldn't let her impromptu exodus go unquestioned. The situation just kept getting better and better, she mused.

Still needing to burn off excess energy, Sam opted for the stairs once more, too soon finding herself outside their room. She was about to knock when Jack opened the door.

"I thought I heard the delivery guy," he said, giving her a practiced bland look. She'd often seen him use the technique with off-world diplomats in an attempt to appear disinterested, but she knew from experience, he was taking in every subtlety of her actions. She was just grateful he didn't ask questions.

"Only me," she said quietly, slipping under the arm he had braced against to doorjamb.

"So, I listened to the recording," he said, taking the device off the dresser. "It actually picked up a fair amount of the conversation. He replayed it for her, and while it was difficult to make out the quiet voices of the "Committee", Kinsey's voice was unmistakeable.

"Good thing Kinsey wants to make sure everyone in the room hears him," she joked. "Let's see if there's anything on the video." She'd already rewound the tape, so Sam tilted the screen to watch the playback. Because of the angle, Jack was behind her, looking over her shoulder.

The first part was murky, and mostly what was captured was muffled audio that the Colonel's microphone had done a better job of picking up. Then, through the gloom, Kinsey stepped into a pool of light and there was no question who was on the recording.

"Great job, Carter! There's no way he can weasel out of this one!"

"Surely when this is made public he'll have to withdraw from the race!" Sam couldn't believe how relieved she felt. After the threat he'd posed in the other universe not two days ago, to have evidence of his illegal activities seemed a miracle. It was practically the first time she'd relaxed since returning "home."

"I'm going to hit the shower," she announced. "Leave me some dinner."

xxxxxx

Jack cleared the usual hotel clutter from the small dinning table, setting cardboard cartons in the center, arranging chopsticks at each of their places. Now he kind of wished they'd opted to go out to celebrate their accomplished mission. That was until Carter exited the steamy bathroom, rubbing her hair dry with a towel. She was dressed in a modest T-shirt and shorts, but it might as well have been a low-cut evening gown for the effect it was having on him. There was just something so natural, so _domestic_ about the sight of her in casual clothes that Jack felt his mouth go dry.

For a few seconds he allowed himself the fantasy of them as a couple before he cleared his throat. "Food's getting cold."

"Me, too," she said, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. "I should have packed a sweatshirt." She had on thick socks, but they seemed to be the only concession she gave to something warmer.

"I've got one," he volunteered, walking to his bag and pulling out a grey Air Force sweatshirt.

She looked up at him. "You're sure you don't need it?"

"Nah. I'm good."

"Thank you, sir." She quickly pulled the garment on, wrapping her arms around herself.

Jack opened a container, checking it's contents as he pointed his chopsticks at her. "Okay. The 'sir' stops here. I'm not going to listen to a string of them for the rest of this trip." He watched Sam's eyes grow large, and he could have sworn she looked even more uncomfortable. She merely nodded, reaching for the rice.

"I'm surprised how hungry I am," she confessed, ladling a large portion of sweet and sour chicken onto her plate.

"You've barely eaten, so I'm not." They ate in silence for several minutes. "I called Hammond. Told him the good news. He seemed pretty excited." Sam nodded again and he wondered at her continued quiet. Sure, the whole room sharing thing was a little odd, but it wasn't _that_ weird, not for her to continue to be so closed off.

"So you said something in the car about Kinsey being the reason you had to come back when you did. What did you mean by that?"

Sam poked at her meal with her chopsticks but didn't take another bite. "He, ah, knew I was from an alternate universe. He claimed to not believe it, citing it was my questionable identity and appearing in a top secret facility as the reasons he felt I was a threat. But I know what he was really afraid of was what I knew of his dealings from this reality."

"So it's kind of ironic that you didn't have any real evidence until today. Kind of a self-fulfilling prophecy."

She gave a derisive snort. "Yeah, some irony." She pulled her knees up, hugging them to her chest and Jack was certain she was exuding a great deal of effort not to cry. Watching her, Jack debated whether or not to bring up his suspicions. Finally, he decided he had to know.

"You didn't want to come back."

"No! Of course I did. I'd been looking for a way back for months. It. . .the timing was off, that's all." It wasn't that he didn't believe her. He knew she was being honest, at least to some degree. There was more. It was what she didn't say that told him the most.

"The timing. . . ." he pushed. Sam's forehead had a furrow between her brows, as if she was carefully weighing her response.

"I, ah. . . Do you mind if we change the subject?" Sam was on her feet, tossing half her dinner into the trash.

Leaning back, Jack hooked his elbow over the back of the chair, scrutinizing her movements. "Actually, I do mind. There's some pretty big holes in your story."

"Look, I told you it would all be in my report!" she snapped. She rubbed her temples, suddenly contrite. "I'm sorry, si. . . It's just been a long two days. Coming back, finding out virtually no time has passed here, being sent on this mission. . . ."

Jack sighed. "I get that, Carter, but you seem to be kind of. . .reluctant to go into more detail. Especially when it has to do with me."

Sam stopped her pacing. "I didn't say it had anything to do with you."

"You didn't have to. Everyone else got nearly their entire bio on what they were doing in that universe. I didn't even get the Reader's Digest version. All I know is you remembered the Ancient gene and got 'me' to help stop the Replicators. You didn't even tell us _how _I-he-did that."

Running her fingers through her nearly dry hair, Sam continued her pacing in the small space between the dresser and the ends of the beds. "It's a _really_ long story and I'm beat. Can we talk about it later?"

Jack looked at where she'd come to rest next to her bed. Her arms wrapped tightly around herself, as if warding him off. "Fine. But I want more details than just a line or two in your report."

"Yes, sir. Sorry," she winced.

_Why was it so damn hard for her to say his name? It was only one syllable after all._ Jack tossed his napkin on his plate. He too had lost his appetite. "I'm going to hit the shower. I want to take another look at that footage when I'm done. See if any of our Superheroes looks familiar."

"I'll get it set up for you."

He nodded, gathering clean clothes. He'd brought sweatpants and wondered briefly if he should offer them to her. Seeing as she was swimming in his sweatshirt, she'd drown in the pants. He liked seeing Sam in his sweatshirt, and he suspected it would be a long time before he washed her scent out of the garment.

"I'll just be a minute," he said jabbing a thumb over his shoulder towards the bathroom. "Think you can stay awake long enough to show me how to run that damn thing?"

"I'm sure you'll figure it out," she smiled, "But I think I can manage a few more minutes."

As shower's went, it was one of the fastest he could recall in a long time. Sam was still fiddling with the camera when he emerged, drying his hair. Steam hadn't even had a chance to build up.

"Wow. I guess it's Daniel holding you guys up after a mission."

"Actually, it's Teal'c," he smiled, tossing the towel onto the tiled floor. Sam gave him a dirty look as she stood, walked to the bathroom, and retrieved his towel, hanging it up. Again, Jack was struck by the familiarity of the act and wondered if Carter had always been like that-cleaning up after him. He couldn't recall her being the maid service on team nights, but then he probably wasn't paying as much attention to her as he was now.

He'd taken a seat on his bed, legs stretched out as he propped pillows up against the headboard. Picking up the camera he looked at it from different angles. "Where's the button?"

Sam shook her head, taking a seat next to him. Reaching for the camera, she took it, flipped it over and pressed what he now saw was a rather obvious "play" button.

"Oh." He angled the screen, and when he noticed Sam was still next to him, he turned the camera enough so she could view the screen as well. "I'm thinking the Asian guy looks familiar for some reason."

"Hmmm. Maybe," she yawned. "When we get back, we can run the tape through an editing program and maybe lighten it up some more." Jack's attention was drawn back to the screen until he felt a warm weight on his arm. Looking to his left, he saw Sam's head had dropped to his shoulder. She was completely out of it, and it surprised him how fast she'd fallen asleep.

"I guess you are exhausted," he said, just loud enough that if she was only dozing, she would have opened her eyes, but they remained closed. Lowering the camera, Jack did his best not to jostle her. He'd let her sleep for a few moments, then would wake her before too much time passed. She needed her own bed to get some proper rest, not sitting up against his headboard.

His arm was going to sleep. She wasn't that heavy, but her weight was blocking Jack's circulation. Slowly, he pulled his arm out from under her, allowing her head to rest on his chest. Now freed, his arm naturally fell to her shoulder and he let it rest there. Oh, he was sure there was going to be hell to pay when she woke and found him practically hugging her, but where was he supposed to go with his arm?

He should wake her. He knew he should. Not only from the practical standpoint of them both needing their rest, but from the embarrassment factor as well, which was sure to be huge. After all the effort she'd put in keeping her distance from him, waking up in his arms was sure to cause a scene.

But he didn't want to wake her. The illicit pleasure of holding her was too alluring. She smelled so good, and the warmth she imbued his left side was impossible to resist. Inching down the pillows, Jack was soon practically prone, taking Sam with him. She slept on, surprising him by wrapping an arm over his chest, and snuggling closer.

"Jack. . . ." she mumbled, squeezing him tighter. "Missed you. . . ." The sound of his name on her lips was doing incredible things to him, and he wondered how long he was going to be able to maintain the Boy Scout routine. Especially as she wiggled against him.

He wanted her. He always wanted her, it seemed, especially when she wasn't around. What would he have done if their situation had been in real time and he thought she'd been missing nearly a year? It would have killed him, to know she'd vanished and might never return. He couldn't imagine a world without her, and in that moment he realized his feelings went far beyond "caring about her a lot more than he was supposed to." It wasn't like it was any kind of a revelation, he just stopped denying it.

Jack reached over and ran his fingers through her hair, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Sleep, Sam. You're home."

xxxxxx

Sam stretched, elbowing Jack in the ribs in the process. "Sorry, Hon," she mumbled, maneuvering her arm back across his stomach.

Jack inhaled and rolled over. "'s okay." He picked up her hand, and pulled it to his chest. At first she started to drift off, content being pressed up against his back, sharing body heat. Until she realized where she was. And who she was with. _ Oh my God! Had she just called her CO 'Hon?' _Sam scrambled away from him so quickly, she fell off the bed.

Jack sat up at the commotion. "Carter? You okay?" He got up, offering her a hand, but she refused to take it. Standing on her own, Sam rubbed her hands over her face and into her hair, trying to wrap her mind around how she'd ended up in bed with Jack. In her sleep-fogged mind, he _had_ been Jack, not her commanding officer. Then it came back to her. She'd been showing him how to run the camera. Had she really fallen asleep that fast? Daniel could do that, but not her. She must have been more exhausted than she'd thought.

"Sir, I'm sorry! Why didn't you wake me?"

"I didn't want to disturb you. You seemed so wiped out." She had been that, she realized, and her subconscious had taken over. She'd slept terribly the night before this mission. Whether it was just enough wine to keep her awake or the terror she'd felt at having to work so closely with him, she didn't know. All she knew was sleep had evaded her and she hadn't gotten any rest on the plane.

"You should have," she said tersely, stalking around the room, gathering the few items she'd left out.

"For cryin' out loud, Carter, you just fell asleep and I pulled the blankets over you! I fell asleep too," he added. "It's no big deal." She might have believed him if when she'd woken her legs hadn't been tangled with his. At least they were both still fully dressed. What must he think of her, wrapping herself like a boa constrictor around him? If he hadn't had suspicions about her relationship with the Jack of the other universe, he certainly did now. Way to throw professionalism out the window!

"I'll talk to the General when we get back, sir. Tell him it was my improper behavior. No need for this to go into your record."

"Go into. . .Carter! You. Fell. Asleep. You've done it before on team nights! I don't know why you're making such an issue out of it!"

She stood as tall as she could in light of her embarrassment. "It was an inappropriate action with a fellow officer and it needs to be reported. Sir."

Jack stalked over to her and grabbed her by the shoulders, gripping them hard enough to get her to look up at him. "No one is reporting _anything_ because there's _nothing_ to report. You got that, Major?"

"You can't order me to not report an incident of misconduct," she reminded him.

Taking a deep breath, Jack stepped back and spoke in an overly-calm voice. "And I wouldn't try if _something inappropriate had happened!_ Is there no getting through to you?" She dropped her gaze from his, unable to meet the look of exasperation in his eyes. Why couldn't he see what a compromising situation this was?

Jack turned away. "Will you at least _consider_ not saying something to Hammond?"

Sam knew she should tell the general, but she also was aware how many times Hammond had looked the other way when their personal conduct had been questioned. They were already in a compromising situation just by sharing the same room. They didn't need to throw gas on the fire.

"I'll think about it, sir."

She decided the best thing for now was to just ignore the awkward situation. Change the subject and move on. After all, that seemed to be how they usually dealt-or didn't deal-with uncomfortable occurrences.

Changing the subject, she asked, "How much time do we have before we have to be back at Andrews?"

Jack checked his watch. "A couple of hours. We've got time to partake in the sumptuous free breakfast they're offering downstairs." Sam couldn't even smile at his sarcasm. She knew the stale, frozen danish and microwaveable plastic egg patties were anything but "sumptuous," but at least it would get them out of the oppressive confines of this room. She couldn't get back to the Mountain fast enough.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer in chapter 1

**7**

George Hammond entered the briefing room, noting O'Neill and Carter were already waiting for him. The thing that struck him first off were the civilian clothes. He rarely saw his people out of uniform and it gave him a whole other impression of them. If he hadn't made the meeting sound so urgent, he guessed they would have changed.

The second thing that struck him was how uncomfortable the two still seemed around each other. They sat on opposite sides of the table, and while the seating arrangements could have been explained by them being the only occupants, it was unusual. Major Carter continued to look as uncomfortable as she had two days ago. Jack, too seemed somewhat off, and he wasn't sure if it was the Major's behavior or if something had happened on their hasty trip to Washington.

Pushing his suspicions aside, Hammond waved them down before they could fully stand. "Congratulations on completing your mission so quickly and successfully."

"Thank you, sir," Jack answered, a bit more reserved than usual. Sam bobbed her head, quietly adding her own appreciation.

"Before we get into any particulars, I have some news I'm sure neither one of you is going to welcome." Realizing he had their attention, he added, "I've just heard from the Joint Chiefs. Apparently Henry Hayes has offered the position of Vice-President on his ticket to Senator Kinsey."

Sam and Jack erupted at once. "That's ridiculous!"

"He can't possibly be that stupid!"

Hammond held up his hands. "I agree, but the decision's been made."

"Sir, we have him on tape, accepting a monetary bribe! Surely that. . ."

"You're preaching to the choir, Major. I told General Schwartz you'd been sent on a mission to gather evidence against the Senator, and he didn't want to hear it. Apparently Kinsey hasn't accepted the nomination yet, but he's expected to."

"All the more reason to get this information out to the public!" Jack stressed.

"We've been _ordered_ to keep any unfavorable evidence under wraps," Hammond said, looking down at the table. Jack was on his feet, scrubbing hands through his hair, causing it to spike up.

"This is wrong. You know it's wrong, sir!"

"My personal feelings don't enter into this, Colonel, and neither should yours."

"Bullshit, sir! You know what that slimy son-of-a-bitch is going to do the minute he has the opportunity!"

"Colonel O'Neill! Take your seat!" Hammond saw Jack glance at Sam who looked equally upset. Perhaps even more so. Any color her face had had was now gone, her eyes wide.

"General," she said, her voice more modulated than O'Neill's, "Perhaps if the Joint Chiefs could view the footage, maybe they'd be a little more open minded."

"Their position has been made clear, Major. They want Hayes to win. As a former member of the military, they feel he'll be sympathetic to their interests."

"Even with Kinsey on board?" Jack asked. "He's made it abundantly clear he thinks the fact the Air Force controls the Stargate is a mistake."

"He wouldn't be their first choice," he admitted, "But since Hayes is the ultimate goal, they're willing to deal with him."

"Big mistake," Jack muttered. "Huge."

Sam looked genuinely panicked. "Sir, we have to do something to change their minds."

"I'm sorry Major, I understand your frustration, especially after your experiences in the other universe. . ."

"Frustration sir? This is _way _more than 'frustration.' Kinsey was in the process of destroying the program there. If Colonel Jackson hadn't gone against orders and used the Stargate, their world would have been disseminated. As soon as he gets that power here, we might as well sign our last will and testament."

Hammond could see she was seething, barely hanging onto her self control. "Major Carter, you've been in the military long enough to know. . ."

"They've got their heads so far up their. . ."

"Major! This discussion is over! We've been told to stand down, and we will comply. Is that clear?"

Sam took a breath, met his gaze with a hard stare and acquiesced. "Yes, sir."

The insubordination was typical of something Jack would have displayed and he didn't find her emulating him reassuring.

"Maybe they think this is a better choice than Kinsey as President," Jack speculated. "I'm not sure what Hayes hopes to gain by bringing him on, but he must have felt it was necessary."

Hammond nodded. "Apparently Kinsey is very popular in Florida, a state Hayes hasn't had a strong showing in."

"Plus the campaign funding. The Committee assured Kinsey of their continued support. What's not to like?" she rhetorically joked.

"The fact that he's a lying, low-down, double-dealing. . . "

"We get the picture, Colonel. I'm sorry your efforts were for naught, but for the time being, I've been told to sit on this information." Noting the look Carter and O'Neill exchanged, Hammond's curiosity was piqued. It was more than disappointment in a wasted effort. Something else was going on between them and it didn't sit well.

The general motioned towards the camera resting before Sam. "I promise you I'll watch what you have and listen to the recording Colonel O'Neill captured. Hopefully we'll be able to use it in the future. You're dismissed."

Carter nodded, stood and pushed her chair in, glancing at O'Neill as she quickly made for the exit. Jack was hot on her heels until he stopped him.

"Colonel? A word if I may?"

Jack stopped mid-step, his shoulders and hands tightening as he turned to face him."Sir?"

"I know you're probably anxious to get home, but I have a few more questions for you."

"You want me to get Carter?" he asked hopefully.

"That won't be necessary. Actually, this concerns her."

"Sir?"

Hammond was unsure how to bring up the topic. He didn't like interfering in the lives of those under his command, and this was definitely crossing the line. "Major Carter still seems to be uncomfortable around you."

"I don't know, sir. I think she's just upset about wasting. . .er taking valuable time away from her work here."

Despite himself, Hammond chuckled at Jack's response. The man rarely tried to be diplomatic. "And I'm sure you're equally frustrated at the futile effort this mission has been. I don't think that's the Major's issue."

Jack took the seat Sam had vacated and didn't meet his gaze. Hammond watched Jack for a moment and realized his suspicions were probably correct. _Something_ was going on between the two of them. They'd never acted unprofessional nor allowed personal feelings to come into play, and yet they tread the line. Hammond wondered if he wouldn't be doing them a favor by transferring one of them.

"One of the reasons I assigned Major Carter to this mission was so the two of you could talk, get your bearings and get back to a solid footing. That doesn't seem to have happened."

Jack drummed his fingers on the table, still not meeting his gaze. Finally, he looked up, the expression on Jack's face relaying his discomfort. "She has some issues."

Hammond waited. "What kind of issues?"

Jack was back on his feet, pacing. "I don't know! She won't talk about it." A restless hand roamed his hair again. "Something to do with me, but she won't talk about it. Well, I guess it would be the other me she won't talk about to. . . me."

Hammond's smirk was back. He'd gotten the same impression, especially when she'd barely touched on the subject of the Jack O'Neill from the other universe during the briefing. "It's causing problems and we can't afford that, not with Anubis ramping up his forces."

Jack poked his index finger at the table. "No, I don't suppose we can."

"Either you straighten things out with her, or get her to talk to someone."

"By 'someone' I'm guessing you mean MacKenzie?"

"It doesn't have to be him, but a qualified psychologist. Until she's cleared, I can't allow her to resume her place on SG-1."

There was a long moment of silence. He knew Jack. Confronting a problem head on was one thing, but _talking_ about it, was another. It wasn't just that it was Sam, Hammond realized. If he'd sent Jack to talk to any of his team mates it would be an excruciating ordeal for the man. The fact it was Major Carter only magnified the situation. He wasn't punishing him, but George doubted O'Neill saw it any other way.

Turning back to his commanding officer, Jack stood, huffing a sigh. "Yes, sir."

**A/N**-Since this one is so short, chapter 8 will be up right after this.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer in chapter 1

**8**

Sam sat on her sofa, swearing at the needles and yarn in her hands. It was the third stitch she'd dropped in an hour. It was beyond her how anyone found this a relaxing pastime. The odd thing was, despite her annoyance, she'd actually completed a few projects. Not that she was going to win any prizes, but she had taken pride in finishing them.

She had just picked up her errant stitch when she heard the doorbell. No one ever came by. Especially at 8 p.m. on a Friday. Gathering her yarn and needles, Sam crossed to the door. She supposed it could be Daniel stopping by to see how she was doing. He'd offered to talk, if she wanted, seeing they had a common frame of reference with the quantum mirror. It wasn't the alternate reality causing her difficulty, it was Jack and how she related to him that was the problem. She suspected what she needed the most was time. And some selective amnesia.

The bell hadn't rung again and Sam wondered if the person had given up, deciding no one was home. She opened her door to discover Jack, or rather Colonel O'Neill, standing on her porch, hands in his pockets, digging the toe of his shoe into a dent in the wooden planking.

"Hey, Carter," he said casually, as if he always dropped by her house on a Friday evening.

"Sir?"

Jack nodded towards her hands. "You really _do_ knit?"

Sam looked down at the needles, feeling her face flush. "Well, you told me to, sir."

"And you listened to me?"

"Not right away. I mean I didn't even consider it until I was trapped in another universe with nothing to pass the time."

"So, this is an _alternate_ hobby, then," he grinned. She couldn't help smiling back at his bad joke, regardless of her confusion at his presence.

"You might say that. Would you like to come in?"

Jack was rocking back and forth on his feet, striving for casual, but she knew his habits too well. In two universes. He nodded, striding into the open dinning room between her kitchen and living room, looking around as if it was the first time he'd been in her home.

"Is that a new picture?" he asked, indicating a photo of Mark, his wife and kids resting on a bookshelf. It was actually several years old.

"No, sir. Can I get you something to drink?" He was continuing his perusal of the room when he took one of his hands out of his pocket and pointed at her.

"But you did cut your hair."

Running a self-conscious hand through her short locks, she admitted she had. "It was a little out of regulation."

Jack nodded, gazing at his shoes. "Looked good on you, though. Not that this. . ."

"Sir, was there a reason you stopped by?"

It took a moment, but eventually he looked up and met her gaze. "Actually, there was." There were another few beats before he added, "That offer of something to drink still good?"

Sighing, Sam crossed to the refrigerator, listing his choices. "There's beer, Diet Coke, some of the wine Janet brought by, and juice. I'm guessing three out of four of those options isn't an option," she said, reaching in and removing a Heineken. She took her time opening it, still waiting for him to explain his appearance, but he remained silent. She watched him remove his coat, and hang it on the back of one of the dinning room chairs. Handing him the bottle, she led him into the living room. Now she was getting nervous. Why didn't he just tell her why he was here?

Sitting down in the arm chair adjacent to the sofa, Sam curled up as she watched Jack take a seat on the far end of her couch. He seemed even more edgy than he had at the door.

"Hammond asked me to stay after our meeting with him the other day," he began, starting to peel the label from the bottle.

She looked at him, then finally added, "Oh?"

"He's, ah, 'concerned' about our working relationship."

"I knew it!" she said, leaping to her feet. "He thinks something happened when we stayed over, doesn't he?"

"Right time frame, wrong assumption." Jack leaned back into the cushions of the sofa, taking a drink of beer. "He confessed he chose you and me to take the mission to D.C. as a means of forcing us to talk."

"Talk? About what? There's nothing to talk about!"

Jack's attention was focused on his drink. "He noticed how you've been avoiding me."

"Avoiding you? How the hell could I avoid you when we were in constant contact for forty-eight hours?"

"Come on, Carter! Let's think about your reaction when you woke up Wednesday morning. _Nothing _happened and yet you totally freaked out."

Sam started moving around the room, picking up any stray object she could to occupy herself. "I don't know that I 'freaked out.' It was an awkward situation, and I was embarrassed."

"I get that, but what about how jumpy you've been? I accidentally brushed your arm on the plane and just about sent you into orbit." She couldn't deny his observations, but she couldn't actually tell him _why,_ could she? She couldn't tell Jack that even now she had to fight the urge to crawl onto the couch and let him wrap his arms around her. Or why she even considered she could join him.

"Everyone else heard what they were doing in the other universe but me. I don't think it's because you don't know."

"You were a chemistry teacher. Happy now?"

"It's a start." He looked down at his hands, then back up at her. "Chemistry? Really?"

Sam shrugged. "You told me you liked to blow stuff up. Or rather, he did." She was leaning against the breakfast bar, arms crossed over her chest. Why did he have to bring all this up now? If he'd just give her some space she'd come to grips with his duality. She had to.

"Look, Carter, this is like pulling teeth. You can either talk to me, or to MacKenzie, or some other shrink. The choice is yours." Jack finished off his beer, placing the empty on her coffee table. Crossing back to the dinning room, he grabbed his coat, sliding on gloves. Sam watched his movements, paralyzed. She _couldn't_ tell him, and yet the thought of facing MacKenzie was even more terrifying.

She was fairly certain how the Colonel felt about her. How could she tell him she'd slept with another version of him when she wasn't willing to step over the line here? That because Jack hadn't been in the military, she'd been able to indulge in all her fantasies about him?

Closing her eyes, Sam sighed. "Sir, please don't go."

Jack stood with his back to her. She could tell by the set of his shoulders he didn't want to stay, that he wanted to take the "out" she'd provided him. But when push came to shove, Jack was a man willing to do what it took to help a friend, even if it meant his own discomfort, which he was obviously feeling.

Sam walked into the kitchen, pulling two beers from the refrigerator as Jack removed his coat and gloves once more. Handing him the fresh beverage, she motioned him back to the living room, choosing to remain standing this time.

Twirling the bottle in her hands, Sam tried to decide where to start. How had she ended up doing the exact thing she swore she couldn't?

She took a deep breath. "I guess you've figured out I knew Jack as more than just an acquaintance." She was looking everywhere but at him.

"'Jack?'" He questioned.

She shrugged. "Early on we decided you were 'O'Neill' so he got Jack."

"I guess I can see that. It's just kind of weird hearing you call him by my name when you can't bring yourself to call me anything but 'sir.'" The bitter tone caused her to look up, and she realized it wasn't going to be any easier for him to hear this story than it was for her to tell it.

"You know why I do. That it's more than just a habit."

He looked away from her. "Yeah," he sighed. "I do know."

Clearing her throat, Sam pushed on. "I did meet him for the first time by accident at a grocery store." She gave him an ironic grin. "He wanted nothing to do with me. He thought I was crazy."

Jack's eyes were squinted up. "Did you techno-babble him?"

Smiling self-consciously, Sam looked at her toes. "No. I think that happened at our second meeting." She explained the series of events of her first encounters with Jack, and he listened without interruption. When she reached the part of where Jack had dropped her off at her apartment after their dinner meeting, O'Neill looked up at her.

"So, that's it?"

"More or less."

"How much more, because I don't see me letting you get away with dropping a bombshell like being from another universe and just accepting it."

"He didn't. Look how you reacted in the briefing when you _know_ alternate universes exist. Try to see it from his perspective. He's never seen or heard any of the unexplainable things we deal with on a daily basis. Even on your most skeptical day, he had you beat."

Jack scooted to the edge of the sofa cushions, set his beer on the table, and rested his arms on his knees. He wound his fingers together, contemplating them rather than her.

"I get the impression I-he-didn't write you off."

"The next morning he showed up for coffee at the diner I worked at. I guess he still had questions."

"Oh, I'm sure that's the reason," he said sarcastically. Sam looked at him then, confused. "Oh, come on, Carter! You had to know the guy thought you were hot! I would have!" As if realizing he'd revealed too much, Jack tried to qualify his statement. "I mean, if I was in that situation and we weren't, you know. . . ."

"In a chain of command?" He nodded and she sat back down on the chair she'd vacated. "Huh."

"What, he give you some story about having to go to work early so he stopped for coffee?"

Sam's head jerked up. "That's almost _exactly_ what he said! Are you telling me it was just some line?"

"I'm sure he meant it," Jack grinned, "But I can guarantee you it wasn't his only motivation." It was disconcerting to be sitting with the Colonel having him explain Jack's behavior.

She'd gone quiet and Jack picked up his beer again. Staring at the bottle, he hesitated with his next question. "So, he was just a customer, then?"

"Um, not exactly." She sat there playing with her own bottle. Lord, they were pathetic. Willing to die for each other but totally incapable of honest communication. "We became friends," she said, a little too brightly.

Jack was nodding again. "I can see that. I mean I'm sure he lo. . . .liked you once he got to know you."

Smiling, she knew he'd purposely recited her words back to her. "It was nice to have an ally. Even if he still thought I was a loon. His words, not mine."

"So, just friends then."

Sam knew he was waiting for her to expand on their relationship. _With benefits_ her traitorous mind supplied. "Pretty much."

This time it was Jack who stood and began pacing. "And yet, every time we're within a foot of each other, you act as if you've got a forcefield surrounding you. Not really how 'friends' act around one another, is it? I mean I don't see you backing away from Teal'c or Daniel like you have been me.

"And what about when you woke up at the hotel the other day? Is that the sort of reaction you would have had if you'd been in bed with either of them? You would have laughed about it and gotten over it. But me, you're acting like you've got some guilty secret. So, tell me, Carter, _do_ you have some guilty secret?"

_Damn the man's perceptions_ she thought. She'd been lulled into a false sense of security, forgetting he was a master of circling around and attacking from the rear. She was caught. The only thing she could do now was try and minimize the damage.

She didn't know how to voice it. But by the length of his strides, he was getting angrier and she couldn't seem to find the words to defuse the situation.

"I wouldn't call it 'guilty,'" she tried to joke, but he didn't seem to find her humor amusing.

Jack closed his eyes and exhaled. "For cryin' out loud, Carter! Just say it!"

"I slept with him, okay! Is that what you wanted to hear?" Oddly, her outburst seemed to calm him some.

Jack looked at his feet. "Actually, no, it's not what I wanted to hear, but I wanted you to tell me instead of continuing to make me guess." Neither spoke for some time. Sam had pulled herself back into a protective ball and he continued pacing her living room. "One night stand sort of thing?" he asked. She heard the hope in his voice, and wished she didn't have to deny it.

Burying her face into her knees she spoke a single word. "No."

Jack's voice was quiet, the kind of calm that came just before he unleashed his rage. She'd seen it in the field, and occasionally, directed toward herself or Daniel. "How long?"

Sam had to think about that, and when she apparently took too much time, he yelled, "How long?"

She unfolded herself and snapped back. "About three months!" Sam was up and moving now and they were literally circling each other. "I lived with him for about two." She didn't have to reveal the last bit, but in her anger, there was a part of herself that wanted to hurt him back.

A single hand drew over Jack's face and he chuckled, but it was void of mirth. "I think about us, leaving everything in that goddamned room for years, fighting 'the good fight' and first chance you get you're off sleeping with my clone."

Sam's mouth dropped open. "Is that what you think? You really believe that just because he looked like you I'd sleep with him? Do you think I'm some horny teenager? You're not the only one who's had to tread a line, you know!"

"So, here you are in an alternate universe, and here I am, or at least a reasonable facsimile. No regs, no rules. Why not get involved with him?" Sarcasm was practically dripping from his sentence, and it pissed her off. He'd distilled her dilemma down to a few words, and the problem was, she had no defense against them. He was right. In the end she'd talked herself into believing Jack was the version of O'Neill she could be with.

"It wasn't like that," she answered, unsure who was she trying to convince.

"Then how was it? Tell me, Carter, how'd he talk you into his bed? Maybe I should be taking notes."

She looked up at him, shocked he would be so blatant. "He's not the one who initiated things," she replied haughtily. That caught him off guard and his face switched from angry to hurt in the time it took for her to blink. Suddenly, Sam felt nauseous. She'd been trying to spare him, and here she was wielding her words in a way that would hurt him the most. Just because she was feeling guilty over accepting Jack in his place.

"Sir, I'm sorry, I didn't mean. . ."

"Oh, I think you were damn sure of what you meant, Carter," he said, storming over to where he'd left his coat. This time he didn't stop to put it on, just grabbed it and headed for the door. "I can't do this," he ground out. "I thought I could, but I. . . ."

"Sir, please! Don't leave like this!"

He didn't even slow down, leaving her front door swinging wildly, banging into the closet.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer in chapter 1

**9**

Jack was shaking. All the pent up emotions he felt at Carter's revelations had no outlet. Not here. Not in front of her house with her no doubt watching from the windows. He stared his truck with a roar, slammed it into gear, and took off, spraying gravel in his wake. He got to the end of her street, running the stop sign. Fortunately, there was no one at the intersection, but it did make him realize he shouldn't be driving until he calmed down.

He took a left, circling around the park across the street from Carter's house. Through the sprinkling of trees he could see her lights, and watched them wink out one by one. Either she was sitting in the dark or had taken herself off to bed.

At least that bed would be empty, he thought bitterly. Leaning his head back against the seat, Jack took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind from the images that had erupted the moment Carter confessed. Scenes of the two of them laughing, staring longingly into each other's eyes, spending an afternoon at a park. All the little things, all the _normal_ things couples did. All the things _JACK _had shared with her that he wasn't allowed to. He was so goddamned jealous of this. . .this other him, he literally couldn't see straight.

He had to calm down and get out of her neighborhood. All she had to do was look through the curtains just right and she'd see his vehicle. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of thinking he couldn't leave her._ JACK_ might need her like that, but he sure as hell didn't.

Starting his truck, he headed home by rote. Not that he frequented her suburb, but he was familiar enough he didn't have to think about his route. Good thing, since his mind continued to scroll snippets of what he imagined her life with _JACK_ to have been like.

He'd stopped at a liquor store, and even though he knew it was a mistake, he saw himself, almost as an outside observer, purchasing the fifth of whiskey. It wasn't even the good stuff. No sense wasting good alcohol on a bender. And he meant to get drunk. Anything that would wipe the images from his mind. He was tempted to take a long swig from the bottle as soon as he reached his truck, but fortunately he still had enough presence of mind to wait until his vehicle was parked in the garage with the keys hidden somewhere before he cracked open his rot gut.

Once home, Jack discarded his jacket onto the floor, just inside the entryway. It had never made it onto his body, even after he'd stopped. God, he felt like shit and he hadn't even started on the whiskey. If he was smart, he'd leave the bottle on the counter, but when had he ever done anything smart? He'd gone and fallen in love with his 2IC for Christ's sake, how smart was that?

Pulling the whiskey from its paper sack, Jack stalked off into the living room, grabbing the TV remote and switching on some sporting event. It was hockey, he vaguely noted, but that was the last thought he gave the television as he collapsed onto his sofa, barely managing to keep the liquor inside the bottle. Angrily, he shoved the scattered newspapers off his coffee table with one booted foot, plopping the other across his ankle.

His first drink was closer to a gulp than a swig, making his eyes water. As the whiskey burned it's way down his throat, Jack found himself wishing the sensation would extend to his brain and burn out the last hour of his life.

He should have left it alone, sent her to MacKenzie and ignored the situation. _ Like you always do_. Hammond probably thought he was doing Jack a favor by letting him settle things with the Major without adding a third party.

"Some favor," he muttered, taking another drink. His throat was still burning from his first go-round so this attempt only tingled. The beer at Carter's had started his belly warming, and the strong alcohol on an empty stomach was fast finishing the job. He knew it wouldn't be long before the pleasant haze started to fog his mind and he couldn't wait.

Staring into his kitchen, he allowed his mind to drift, imagining Sam standing there working on making dinner. In his imagination she was humming some nameless tune while she worked, and he snuck up behind her, grabbing her around the waist. She let out a squeal, raising her fists as she swung around, defense training automatically kicking in. That is until she spotted him. Her hands dropped, her special smile blossoming on her face.

"Jack! You scared me half to death!" But the kiss she rewarded him with told him she hadn't minded in the least.

Jack sighed. _Yeah, that's how it should be, _he thought, taking another hit from the bottle. But it was never going to happen. Not with him at least. _JACK_ probably already had had his fantasy, and more. God he hated the guy! The thought of that other him making love to her was driving him insane.

How could she do it? If she felt _anything_ for him, how could she have slept with the guy? One time, in a drunken wave of homesickness, he could forgive, maybe even understand. But to live with him? To be his life's companion? To give up and "go native?" He never thought he'd see the day. If Carter was anything, it was loyal, and the thought she'd turned her back on her own universe to embrace his left more than a bitter taste in his mouth. True, she'd come back, but if it hadn't been a decision born of desperation, would she have chosen this existence?

Why should she? Didn't she have it all there? A man he presumed she loved. A man that wasn't off limits. Hell, they could have rode off into the sunset and had a zillion babies with big blue eyes, blonde curls and brains as big as Texas.

He took another drink. It was getting harder to think. He was upset. What was he mad about? Oh, right. Carter. Why was he mad at her? He loved her, why would the thought of her piss him off?

"Shhhh," he sloppily whispered at the TV, clutching the bottle tighter. "Don't tell her I love her. Itsh a shecret." He upended the bottle, finishing the last of the contents. Now it was gone. He should have another one somewhere. Jack tried to stand but wobbled and fell over, back onto the couch, almost knocking it over.

"Whoa. Too fast." He laughed, trying again but with the same result. "You better shtay put, Buddy," he muttered to himself. "learn your place. Your place is sloppy seconds," he breathed. "After she's through with him, maybe she'll think about you."

Jack stared at the ceiling, watching the light fixture spin around the room. "What kind of noises does she make when you're screwing her, _JACK_? Come on, you can tell me. We're practically the same guy. Don't be shy." He licked sticky, dry lips and spoke again, voice growing hoarse. "Don't kiss and tell? Good man. She'd hate that. No wonder she loves you. Couldn't pry it from me, either." He took a deep breath, sighing on his exhale. " I think I'm shleeping now."

xxxxxx

The room was bright, and it hurt. Why was every light in the goddamn house on? Blinking slowly, Jack came to realize it was no longer night, and the hideously intense light was sunshine streaming in the large windows. He raised his arm to check the time and it felt like lead. 1000. God. His arm fell back against his side as he closed his eyes again, hoping to block the cheerful light and settle the room spinning around him.

He needed water. And to pee. Not necessarily in that order, but to do either required moving and that just wasn't happening. He must have dozed off because the next time Jack opened his eyes, the patch of sun had shifted. He ran a hand over his face, whiskers scratching his palm.

"Crap," he mumbled, grinding the heels of his hands into eyelids. The need to pee had now become critical and like it or not, he had to brave the gyrating room to get to the bathroom. Cautiously sitting up, he kicked the empty bottle on the floor and the scent of stale whiskey washed over him. Feeling his stomach roil, it was becoming even more imperative he reach the bathroom. Once on his feet, Jack took great gulps of air hoping to calm the nausea heading for his esophagus. It had been a long time since he'd "tossed his cookies" after a binge, but he wasn't the drinker he used to be. He hadn't felt the need.

Placing a steading hand on the back of his sofa, Jack momentarily wondered what had triggered his fall into the alcoholic abyss. Oh. Right. Carter. Carter and her betrayal, because he couldn't see it as anything but that. Why couldn't she have had an affair with the Daniel of that universe? Or anyone else for that matter? Why did it have to be him? Okay, maybe not Daniel. That would be really weird.

After he'd taken care of business, Jack looked in the mirror, studying his reflection. "Way to make yourself attractive to the ladies," he quipped, noting there wasn't a single feature of his face that didn't look hung over. Bloodshot eyes rimmed with dark circles, grizzled, unshaved cheeks and chin, hair even more unruly than usual. Yup. Hard to believe Carter would pass this up.

Reaching for the tall glass beside the sink, Jack nearly filled it and downed in in one go. First step to recovery: hydrate. Second step: clean up. As he concentrated on his grooming, Jack consciously shut out any thoughts of how he ended up in this state. Thinking about Carter was not an option. _Good luck with that,_ he thought.

Clean clothes, freshly bushed teeth, and the day was starting to look up. His first order of business was to clean up last night's mess. Somewhere in his stupor he must have gotten the munchies because there was a bag of chips ripped open on the coffee table, it's contents spilling onto the floor. There were also several remnants ground into the upholstery of the sofa, leaving grease stains.

"Son of a bitch," he grouchily swore, brushing the crumbs away. He didn't want to get the vacuum, not only for the inconvenience, but the noise the machine would cause. He wasn't sure his head was up to it. But he was resolved to put last night behind him and picking up the mess was part of that task.

Half an hour later, everything was put to rights, the slight smell of air freshener hanging in the room. Even Teal'c, with his superior senses, wouldn't detect a night of debauchery, Jack reasoned as he replaced the vacuum in the utility closet. He was just closing the door when he heard his doorbell. God, he hoped it wasn't Carter! Anger was still boiling in his gut and he was afraid he'd say something he couldn't take back.

He was still debating pretending not to be home, when Jack was surprised to hear Teal'c's deep voice coming through the entrance. "I believe you are avoiding me, O'Neill."

Jack blinked in surprise. "Teal'c? What are you doing here?" He opened the door, taking a step back when he saw "Murry's" imposing bulk taking up most of the entryway. Sticking his head out the door, Jack looked up and down the street for any vehicle that could have deposited the Jaffa on his stoop.

"Is it not considered an act of hospitality to invite a visitor to enter your dwelling?"

"Huh? Oh, right. Come in," Jack tried to welcome, still dazed at Teal'c's sudden appearance. "How'd you get here?"

"DanielJackson needed to purchase provisions and I asked him to deliver me to your home." Okay, that answered the "how," but the "why" was still a mystery. Teal'c stood in the hallway, hands clasped behind his back. Jack waited for him to elaborate, but Teal'c simply looked at him, a placid expression on his face.

Jack motioned him towards the living room. "Any particular reason you stopped by?" Teal'c followed him, seating himself after Jack landed on the sofa. He removed the over-sized cowboy hat, placing it on an end table and folded his hands together.

"I wish to discuss MajorCarter's recent behavior." Jack felt his stomach drop. There was _no way_ he was going to talk about her to anyone, least of all someone who was a neophyte to Human emotions. True, Teal'c seemed to be an excellent observer and listener, but Jack wasn't ready to have the Jaffa tell him what he saw when he looked at himself and Carter.

Jack opted for obtuse. "Why, has she done something to you?"

Teal'c's gaze remained steadily focused on him. "It is her behavior in regards to you that I wish to speak of."

"I didn't notice anything," Jack lied.

"She seemed most distressed in your presence."

"Did she? She was kinda worked up over the whole time difference thing, but I don't know that it necessarily had anything to do with me." Standing, Jack moved out of Teal'c's line of sight. "You want something to drink?"

"Some fruit juice would be acceptable."

"You got it," Jack replied, anything to get him away from Teal'c's scrutiny.

"There seems to be a lingering scent of alcohol in your relaxation room," he observed. _So much for passing the Jaffa sniff test!_

"Ah, yeah," was all Jack could think to say, feeling like his team mate was chastising him. Handing Teal'c his glass, Jack wondered how long it would be before Daniel came to collect the cowboy-warrior. Retaking his seat, Jack took a sip from his own glass-filled with water-and stared at the man sitting across from him.

"So, how 'bout those Avs, huh? Quite the game last night."

"Your attempts to distract me will not succeed. I believe it would be beneficial for you to talk of MajorCarter's disquiet."

"Hey, it's her 'disquiet', why don't you talk to her about it?"

Teal'c's half-lidded gaze remained on him. "You fein disinterest, but I believe MajorCarter's actions are distressing to you."

"And where was it again you got your degree in psychology?" Jack asked, picking up the television remote, toying with the device.

"The fact I have no credentials from your world does not mean I have not observed the difference in your behavior. Nor has it passed DanielJackson's notice." Okay, if _Daniel _saw it, he and Carter had to have been pretty damn obvious. Well, he guessed he had proof of that. Everyone from Hammond on down was telling him to get his house in order.

Jack sat fiddling with the remote, doing his best to ignore the giant Jaffa in the room. "Actually, I did try to talk with her. Last night." Teal'c continued to stare at him, causing Jack's jiggling movements to increase. "It didn't go very well, okay?" Suddenly he was on his feet, moving restlessly around the room. How ridiculous was this, anyway? An alien and an emotional cripple trying to discuss something as nebulous as his jealousy over his 2IC's personal life. He shouldn't even _have _an opinion on it, much less be upset about it.

"Has something passed between your counterpart and MajorCarter?" Jack looked up sharply at Teal'c. How did he do that? Zero in on the precise dilemma he was experiencing.

"Why would you say that?"

"MajorCarter's reaction and your own."

"I got no problem with Carter," Jack answered a little too quickly.

"I beg to differ, O'Neill. You have become extremely agitated since we have been discussing MajorCarter."

"You're the one who's discussing Carter, not me." Teal'c's stare was unnerving. Granted, the Jaffa was several years his senior, but he was really making Jack feel like an errant child. He knew Teal'c wouldn't drop the subject, but he just couldn't bring himself to talk about Sam sleeping with his doppleganger.

"MajorCarter mentioned having met your counterpart while she was in the other universe."

Jack wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with that statement. "Uh, yeah. So?"

"I would think it would have been most unsettling to find oneself in a world closely resembling our own, but with no friends to turn too."

"Yeah, that would suck," he agreed.

"I would think MajorCarter would have relished her contact with your counterpart."

Jack's pacing escalated. "Why would you say that?"

"I have often observed a special bond the two of you share." Jack winced. _Was that damn Za'tarc thing always going to come back and bite him in the ass?_ "I would imagine the O'Neill of that universe would have been a great comfort to MajorCarter."

_That's one word for it_, he thought bitterly. "Probably," he conceded. "He did a lot of 'comforting,'" Jack groused, realizing too late he'd probably revealed more of his jealousy to Teal'c than he'd intended.

Teal'c cocked his head and blinked slowly. "Does it not reassure you your counterpart was able to be of assistance to MajorCarter?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"Would you rather she had turned to another to find solace?" Jack knew what kind of "solace" Teal'c was referring to, and no, he wouldn't have wanted that.

"No, I guess I'm glad if it had to be someone, it was him."

"Then why is it you seem upset she accepted his offer of association?"

Teal'c's words forced him to examine the sticking point. _Because she had acted on it,_ he answered himself. She'd experienced what it was like to openly love a version of himself and he hadn't had the same opportunity. Jack dropped back down on his sofa. _Because I'm a petty, self-centered son-of-a-bitch, _he thought. Scrubbing his hands through his hair, he exhaled. "I don't know, Teal'c. Because I'm an idiot."

"I do not believe that is the case. Perhaps if you had a further discussion with MajorCarter you could resolve this impasse."

Jack's head lolled against the back of the sofa. "I don't think she's too anxious to talk to me right now."

"MajorCarter will not hold harsh words against you. I have found her to be most understanding." Teal'c stood then, gathering his hat. "DanielJackson approaches."

Cocking his head, Jack listened for the sound of Daniel's car, but couldn't hear it. A moment later he heard the vehicle in the distance. Jack climbed to his feet, walking Teal'c to the door. He supposed he should thank Teal'c for imparting his unique perspective, but Jack wasn't sure he welcomed the unsolicited advice. Teal'c had gotten him to rethink his position on Carter's actions, but he still wasn't ready to let go of his anger. Not yet.

At the door, Teal'c turned, bowing slightly with the same half smile he often sported. "Good day to you, O'Neill."

"You too. Say 'hi' to Daniel." Teal'c inclined his head slightly once more before turning to leave. As Jack shut the door he continued to puzzle over the Jaffa's visit. Of all the confessors he could have chosen, Teal'c would not have been the obvious choice. He hadn't wanted to unburden himself, but perhaps the Jaffa knew him better than he thought.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer in chapter 1

**10**

Sam was lying on her sofa, a heavy book on wormhole theory balanced on her stomach when she heard her doorbell ring. _Another visitor? Her quiet home was starting to resemble Grand Central Station!_ Sighing, she sat up, placing the open book on the coffee table. The bell rang again.

"Just a minute!" Hurrying to the door, Sam's stocking-clad feet slipped on the hardwood flooring of her entry way. What was it with people these days arriving at odd hours of the night?

"What?" she demanded, swinging the door open. Colonel O'Neill was once again on her porch. He hadn't been by this much since she'd known him. "Sir?"

"Hey, Carter," he said, his smile artificial.

She wasn't exactly blocking the entrance, but neither was she welcoming him in. She'd just started to putting his last visit behind her, and here he was again. Emotionally, she didn't know if she was ready for that. It was so hard to see him as both Colonel O'Neill and Jack, she wasn't sure she could do this again after only two days. But tomorrow was Monday and she'd be forced to face him under the watchful eye of General Hammond. That would be infinitely more difficult than trying to settle this privately.

"Come in," she finally invited, offering to take his coat. She hung it in the closet, wondering if he was going to break the door down if he beat a hasty retreat. Sam led the way into the living room, forcing Jack to follow. "Sorry, I don't have anything to offer you but Diet Coke. You finished off the beer, and I got the wine."

Self-consciously, Jack rubbed the back of his neck. "Guess I shouldn't have shown up empty handed. Sorry I cleaned you out."

"It's all right," she said, waving away his apology. "It's probably better if we have clear heads for whatever this is." Sam waved her hand around again. She gestured towards the sofa, as she took her usual arm chair.

Leaning over the coffee table, Jack noticed the open book. "Wormhole theory? Didn't you pretty much write the book on that?"

Sam smiled. "Actually, it is my book. I wrote that when we had the armbands and I was curious to see if any of my opinions had changed."

"And have they?"

"I've got a different take on the time dilation fields now." Jack looked uncomfortable, as if he were about to be subjected to a string of technical string theory. "Don't worry, sir, I won't tell you about it."

"Sweet."

She couldn't help grinning, despite still finding it difficult to be near him. She was even more aware of the tension between them since he'd stormed out of her house. Sam wasn't quite sure how they were going to resolve the situation. Her chest still ached just seeing him sitting on her couch, and she couldn't imagine it was going to get much easier when they were on a mission. The only solution she could hope for was she had a strong enough sense of professionalism to buffer her reaction to him.

"I'm sorry about the way I left the other night," he said. "It's just that I'm so damned jealous of the guy. . . ." The stark honesty of his statement surprised her. The Colonel usually wasn't so forthcoming.

Taken aback, it took Sam a moment to respond. "He was jealous of you," she admitted.

"Of me? You've got to be kidding! What about my life would he have to envy?"

"Well, think about it. He knew I saw you every time I looked at him. How secure would _you_ feel if the situation was reversed?"

"It kind of is," he said, looking up at her. "And you're right. 'Secure' is hardly the word I would use to describe this." That caused her to give him another small smile. The irony of the situation wasn't escaping her.

"Well, it's not like you're exactly the same. Different experiences have shaped your lives in different ways. He's a teacher, you're in the military. Sara's the one who died and Charlie. . ." She abruptly cut herself off, suddenly realizing what she'd just said.

Jack looked up sharply at the mention of his son's name. "_Charlie?_ Charlie was still alive there?" Sam felt her eyes go wide and she barely nodded.

"And you didn't tell me?"

"Of course I was going to, just not. . ."

"Just not what?"

"Just not like this-blurting it out!" Sitting wasn't working and Sam was on her feet.

"So, when were you going to tell me? Months from now?"

Sam felt her temper flare. "When did you want me to tell you? In the middle of a briefing? On a mission? As you were charging out my door? You tell me, Colonel, when would have been a good time for me to tell you the single most defining moment of your life hadn't happened there?" She turned her back to him and didn't realize he'd gotten off the couch until she felt his hands on her shoulders, grabbing her none-to-gently, then spinning her around. "You could have told me when we were in the hotel room!"

Shrugging him off, Sam stepped out of his grasp. "I was going to," she confessed, quieter now. "When you were in the shower, I decided I was going to tell you when you came out. But then you were all hot to look at the video. Even while you were watching it, I promised myself I was going to tell you, but I fell asleep. The next morning. . . .well, you know what happened the next morning. Charlie wasn't exactly on the top of my list. I'm sorry! I know I should have found a time to tell you, but with everything, there just didn't seem to be an appropriate opportunity."

Jack sagged down to the sofa, face buried in his hands. At least some of his anger seemed to have drained away. He sat there for long minutes, making Sam grow even more anxious the longer he remained silent.

Letting his hands drop to his lap, Jack looked up at her, his soulful expression tearing her heart out. His voice was so quiet she had to strain to hear him.

"What was he like?" Sam sat down next to him, and for the first time since she'd returned from the other universe, initiated contact. Reaching over and touching him, Sam took one of his hands in both of hers, squeezing gently.

Clearing her throat, she began. "He was a great kid. He looked so much like you, but I could see Sara there, too."

Jack's head jerked up. "Sara was there?"

Shaking her head, Sam gave Jack's hand another squeeze. "In that universe, Sara was the one who was shot." She half expected him to go off on a rant again, but he didn't seem to have the energy.

"How. . .?"

"Charlie," she swallowed. "Jack had a gun in the house for protection and Charlie was playing with it. Apparently Sara startled him and he accidentally shot her."

"God," he sighed. Standing, Jack ran a hand through his hair. "I hadn't really thought about Sara in all this," he confessed. "I guess I thought they were divorced like we are. I didn't think about the possibility she might not be alive there."

Sam didn't move. "Like I said in the briefing, things were slightly off. Just enough to be confusing."

Nodding, Jack retook his seat. "So, Charlie was okay? He seemed like a normal kid after doing something like shooting his mother?"

"He seemed like an average teenager. Jack didn't talk about it, but I get the impression Charlie had suppressed the incident somehow. I mean he knew his mother was dead, but he didn't seem to connect himself to her death."

"That's one thing to be grateful for," he breathed. "Still, the guy had to have been devastated at her death."

"I get the feeling it had a pretty monumental effect on him, but we never really discussed it. I think he was doing his best to move on." Jack nodded again, obviously thinking of the differences between his and Jack's losses.

Just then Sam remembered her phone. She'd had it in her pocket when she'd come through the 'gate, and hadn't given it much thought in the hectic days that followed. Crossing to a desk with one of her computers, Sam found the device where she'd left it. It wouldn't function as a phone, but she'd jury-rigged a power adapter for it so she could still use some of the other features of the device. Accessing her photos, she scrolled through until she found the picture she wanted. It was one of Charlie and Allison, taken just before they headed out on a date. Both kids had balked at her insistence on a photo, but stood long enough for Sam to take a hurried shot. Charlie was grinning the same smile Jack often sported, and Allison just looked a little uncomfortable.

Sam handed Jack the fairly thin, palm-sized rectangle faced with glass. "What's this?" he asked.

"It's a phone, actually."

Jack turned the gadget over, examining it from several angles. "Get out! Really?"

Sam took the device back and activated it once more. "They're about five years ahead of us technologically. Most of the features don't work here," she informed him, "But the pictures are still there. It kills me I had to leave my laptop there."

Jack grinned at that. The first indication of a genuine smile since showing up at her door. He nodded sagely. "_That_ explains all the weird behavior. Doohickey withdrawal." She was surprised he could joke considering the conversation they'd been having, but took it as a positive sign. Turning the phone around, Sam displayed Charlie's picture.

Jack hissed a sharp intake of breath. "Wow. No getting around he's my kid, is there? Or his, as the case may be." The last part was spoken with such sadness it made her heart twist. Jack couldn't take his eyes off the photo. "He'd be about seventeen, right?"

Placing her hand back on his arm, Sam nodded. "That part of the the timeline seemed to be about the same."

"Who's the girl?"

"His girlfriend, Allison. She's really sweet. I liked her a lot."

Jack looked up at Sam then, studying her face. "She looks a lot like you. Except she's got long hair. Guess the O'Neill men know what they like." Sam was stunned by his candid comment. Ever since the Za'tarc incident she knew her feelings were reciprocated, but he never spoke of his attraction to her. It was always just _there_, and they both seemed to do their best to ignore it.

As he handed back the phone, Jack's thumb accidentally brushed the screen, bringing up the next photo in the queue. It was of the three of them outside the Denver Museum of Nature and Science. Jack had his arm casually slung over her, and his right hand on Charlie's shoulder. There wasn't much difference in the men's heights, hinting Charlie would probably be even taller than Jack. Realizing what he was looking at, Sam made a grab for the phone, but he pulled it out of reach.

"You guys look good together," he swallowed, still looking at the picture, likely comparing likenesses and differences with his counterpart. "I'm sorry you had to come back."

"I'm not." He looked up from the photo, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. "I told him just because we'd gotten together I wasn't giving up on trying to get back where I belonged."

"But you said something about the timing. . . ."

"Yeah, that sucked," she sighed. "I feel as though I abandoned him." Sam fought the urge to cry, reliving how out of control she'd felt at having to leave him. She told the Colonel how Jack had saved that Earth by using an Ancient device, one that only he seemed to be able to activate. "I don't understand what he did or how he did it. Neither did he. Perhaps if I'd stayed there I would have eventually figured it out," she shrugged. "But he was exhausted, so drained from the effort to do whatever it was he did, I wasn't sure he was going to recover. My only chance to even attempt to get back to this universe came as they were transferring me out of the SGC. We all knew it was then or never."

Tears did slip down her cheeks now and she angrily brushed them away, starting to stand until she felt Jack hold her back. Her gaze met his and she read the compassion there which only served to make the tears flow faster.

"C'mere," he said, pulling her into his embrace. She resisted only a moment before she collapsed into his arms. Sam was more than a little surprised at his willingness to comfort her, given she still sensed his upset over Charlie and her relationship with Jack.

Out of the blue he announced, "Teal'c stopped by yesterday."

"Teal'c? Really?"

"Yeah, it turns out he's the Jaffa's answer to Dr. Phil."

That made her snort an aborted giggle. "Why do you say that?" she asked, fearing she already knew the answer. The thought her team mates were interceding made her stomach churn. It was embarrassing enough Hammond thought they had a problem. To think Teal'c, and by extension Daniel, also thought they had personal issues, she wondered how she was going to face any of them.

While his arms around her provided a balm to her aching heart, this wasn't helping her distance herself from her CO. Wiping her remaining tears, Sam gently pushed herself out of his embrace, sliding a bit further away on the couch.

"How did he get to your house?"

"Daniel dropped him by. Look, the point of all this is Teal'c made me realize I might have. . .over reacted."

"_Might_ have over reacted? You didn't give me any chance to explain!"

"How much more is there to say? You slept with the guy! That pretty much says it all!"

Sam's emotions were in a maelstrom. One moment Jack had his arms around her, and the next he was back to his accusations about her relationship with his counterpart. She didn't know what was going to set him off. "This is pointless," she mumbled, launching herself off the sofa, moving into the kitchen. Sam filled a glass with water, hoping the action would give her the few seconds she needed to collect herself. As she turned around, she bumped into Jack. She hadn't even heard him follow her, but he was so close, she could feel the heat radiating off him.

"Sam, I'm sorry. Again. I swore to myself I wasn't going to do this. Get all pissed off and start shouting at you. But here I am, making a mess of things once more."

He was so close. She wouldn't even have to take a full step to be pressed up against him. Her throat ached from unshed tears, but she was _not _going to give him the satisfaction of crying again.

"You have no idea what it was like," she whispered, tilting her head back slightly to look at him. "Part of it was my fault. I took on the persona of a dead woman so I couldn't afford to cultivate friends. I guess I thought I needed to be 'Sam Carter' there in case, by the grace of God, any of you had also made it, you could find me. I should have changed my name when I concluded I was alone. But I needed something to hold onto." Only vaguely was she aware Jack had taken the half-step necessary to touch her. His fingers found their way into her hair, brushing the short strands behind her ear.

"I'm sorry," he softly repeated. "I'm sorry I yelled, I'm sorry you were stuck there, I'm sorry I'm still so jealous. . . ."

Sam's gaze connected with his. "When I first saw him, I was so relieved. Even when I got that he didn't know me, or anything about the Stargate, I couldn't help the hope I felt just being in his presence. You always make everything right, Jack, no matter what the circumstances." She could tell she'd embarrassed him with her confession, and knew the next words out of his mouth were going to be something self-deprecating or an attempt at humor. She wasn't disappointed.

"You have some pretty low standards, Carter."

"I think I'm a tough sell," she smiled at him.

His fingers were still roaming through her short locks, decimating coherent thoughts. "Can I make this right?"

Sam couldn't fight his proximity any longer and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her cheek into his chest. God, she wished they could stay this way forever, but she knew it was merely a reprieve, a moment out of time.

"Sam," he spoke softly, voice rough with emotion, "there is nothing you can do to make me stop loving you. Even sleeping with another me." She was so shocked by his casual admission of love, she almost missed his attempt at joking away his pain. "I'm not saying it doesn't hurt," he added. "But we'll work through it. Just promise me at the end of the day there's a chance for us as well."

Sam could only nod, burying her face deeper into Jack's chest, inhaling the familiar scent he and his counterpart shared. She felt his arms tightening on her as well, his lips on her hair, placing a tender kiss atop her head. Squeezing her eyes shut, Sam longed to move the fraction it would take to kiss him. One last intimate connection for her, a first, a promise for him. But it wouldn't be fair to either of them. A taste of the forbidden would be too tempting given their raw emotions.

She didn't know how long they stood there, neither quite willing to let the other go, knowing once the contact was severed, the moment would be lost and there would be no going back. He would be her commanding officer once more and she his subordinate.

Taking a fortifying breath, Sam stepped back as Colonel O'Neill now watched her with Jack's eyes. As much as she missed the freedom of openly loving him in another universe, she knew here, it wasn't their time. There was still a war on and it was up to them and the SGC to protect Earth. If that meant waiting for him, she would find a way, because there was more at stake than her personal happiness.

The sharp pain she'd felt at her return was still there, but knowing both Jacks loved her equally was giving Sam the courage to face the future. It wouldn't be easy, but somehow she would find the strength to distance herself enough to become his 2IC once more. Because more than anything, she needed to be by his side. Needed to continue to be a part of SG-1. And some day, God willing, she wouldn't have to make the choice between lover and comrade. They would be one in the same, whatever reality they chose to embrace.

The End

**A/N**-I'd like to thank everyone for spending some time with my stories and for all the encouraging reviews. It's been a great ride!

Noda


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